


Hello Again

by enigmaticblue



Series: Hello Again [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1725722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to my short story, Summer Vacation. After the events of Forgiving, Wesley decides to take action after losing Connor, and finds something he never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Because there’s quite a bit of time between this story and the last, there’s quite a bit of catching up to do. All will be explained eventually, but you’ll have to hang in there with me for a bit. Also, I’m playing around with time and canon. You’ll see what I mean.

Buffy rushed through the rubble, looking for any sign of him. “Stupid vampire,” she muttered. “If he’s dusted himself, I’m never going to forgive him.”

 

“Buffy!” Giles called out. “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine.” She moved towards a spot of color that might have been Spike’s hair, but it turned out to be yet more construction material. “Did you see where Spike fell?”

 

He hurried towards her. “Does it really matter?”

 

“Does what matter?” It was going to be difficult to see him in the early morning half-light. The sun was just now beginning to appear over the horizon, but if they didn’t find him soon, his dust would be indistinguishable from the destruction around them.

 

“Finding Spike.” He grabbed her arm. “I realize that he’s been very helpful recently, but—”

 

“He saved Dawn’s life.” Buffy met his eyes, daring him to disagree. “I owe him.”

 

Giles’ gaze fell. “Very well.”

 

“Buffy!”

 

Dawn was waving frantically from about twenty feet away, and she jogged over to her sister. The younger girl was trying to pull Spike to his feet, without much luck. Buffy quickly took over. “Are you okay?” she asked.

 

“Fine,” he ground out.

 

Buffy glanced at the sky, noting that the sun was high enough that their only choice was to find a sewer entrance; he’d be safe enough underground. “Dawn, go find a manhole. There should be one close by.”

 

“Okay.” Dawn willingly ran off, the dress Glory had made her wear tangling around her legs.

 

Giles had apparently decided to follow her lead, because he moved to support Spike on the other side. “What about the others, Buffy?”

 

She looked up to see Xander carrying an injured Anya, while Willow and Tara leaned on one another for support. “Tell them to go home, Giles. We’re fine, and we could all use some sleep. If you could see Dawn home, I’ll get Spike back to his crypt.”

 

“I can get myself back,” he insisted. “You don’t have to bother about me.”

 

“Shut up,” she said, although not unkindly. “You can’t even walk by yourself.”

 

“Slayer—”

 

“Don’t argue with me. You know you’re not going to win.” He fell silent, which was unusual enough that Buffy suspected he was hurt a lot worse than he let on.

 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?” Giles asked as they approached the manhole cover Dawn was standing next to.

 

She shrugged. “After tonight? I think I can handle just about anything.” Buffy spared a moment to look her sister up and down, checking for injuries she might have missed before they’d come down from the top of the tower. “I’ll meet you at home, okay?”

 

“Okay.” Dawn looked at Spike, her expression torn. “Spike…”

 

“Forget it,” he growled, apparently sensing that a thank you was on the way.

 

She didn’t respond in words, instead pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Buffy let Giles take Spike’s weight for a moment while she removed the cover. “Can you manage it?”

 

He winced. “Suppose we’ll see, won’t we? ‘s not like I have much choice.”

 

The sky was becoming rapidly lighter, and Buffy nodded, letting Spike lower himself down. She heard a harsh grunt as he hit the ground below, then look at the others. “I’ll see you guys later.”

 

Buffy climbed down cautiously, her eyes not yet accustomed to the darkness. “Spike? Are you okay?”

 

“Think so.” There was a pause. “Think my left leg is broken.”

 

“Are you going to make it back to your crypt?”

 

“Guess I have to,” he replied. “Last thing I want to do is stay here all day.”

 

“Are you still having trouble?”

 

“Let’s just say I’m not everybody’s favorite vampire.”

 

“Well, you rate pretty high on my list right now.” The words slipped out before Buffy had a chance to think about what it was she was saying—and how it probably sounded to him.

 

Odd, how things had changed so drastically over the last year. Lorne had told her to trust the person she trusted least, if she wanted to save herself and those she loved, and Spike certainly fit that description.

 

At first, it had been out of necessity; Spike was the only one strong enough to protect her sister and mother when she wasn’t available. Later, though, it had been because she knew he would.

 

Buffy trusted Spike because he’d proved himself trustworthy—and she knew just how strange that was.

 

“Thanks. That’s nice to hear.”

 

They limped along in silence, Buffy trying to help him keep the weight off of his bad leg. “I haven’t thanked you yet.”

 

“It’s not necessary.”

 

“You saved my sister’s life.”

 

“I made a promise.” Spike sighed. “Look, can we drop it? I did what I could.”

 

Buffy had no idea why he was being so prickly, particularly since she was being so nice. “Is something wrong?”

 

“No. I’m just tired, and hurting a bit too much to make conversation.”

 

“Yeah, okay.” Buffy sensed there was something else there as well, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “I just thought—”

 

“Yeah. Ignore me. I’m in a pisser of a mood.”

 

“You just fell seven stories, so I think you’re allowed.”

 

That got a shadow of a smile. “That Glory was a real bitch.”

 

“Worse than me?” she teased.

 

“You’re not a bitch. Haven’t punched me in the nose for a while now.”

 

Buffy snorted. “You haven’t done anything to deserve it in a while.”

 

“Point.”

 

Buffy gave him a strange look. “Okay, what’s going on?”

 

He frowned, glancing over at her. “What are you talking about?”

 

She raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Spike. You have never admitted to doing anything worthy of getting punched in the nose before. You’re always proclaiming your innocence.”

 

“Didn’t say I wasn’t innocent,” he said with a smirk. “Just said I hadn’t done anything that _you_ would think I needed a pop in the nose for.”

 

Buffy wasn’t buying it. “Still, you’ve been acting really different lately.”

 

“You’ve been treating me differently.”

 

She hadn’t told him about what Lorne had said, and she found herself reluctant to do so, although she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was simply that Buffy didn’t want to admit that her attitude had changed towards him because of something that a psychic demon had said after she’d sung karaoke.

 

The karaoke part was hard enough to explain.

 

“You’ve been acting differently,” she pointed out, wanting to change the subject.

 

Spike appeared skeptical, but he didn’t deny the allegation. “Figured I didn’t want to get dusted.”

 

Buffy didn’t think that was all of it, but if he pressed, she would have to admit to what Lorne had said to her—and that she didn’t quite hate him anymore. “Yeah, well, it’s definitely not as tempting these days.”

 

It was the only reply she could think of, even though it seemed inadequate. In the end, there was nothing to do but to make the rest of their slow, painful way back to Spike’s crypt.


	2. An Unexpected Letter

**“Just say ‘when’ and you'll stop the pain of your life,/Bring it to an end./Just say ‘when’ and you could make amends/Just say hello, say hello again.../Hello again, it's not that hard./No dead ends, even with the scars…” ~Lostprophets, “Hello Again”**

 

Wesley put the box down on the floor and dropped his keys on top. The doctors had reluctantly allowed him to leave the hospital, not believing that he was ready to go home. He had insisted, and they had given in.

 

He sat down on the couch wearily, flipping through the stack of bills that had piled up over the last few days—or perhaps it should be weeks, since he hadn’t been paying much attention to his mail. Among the bills, however, was a pastel-colored envelope addressed in an unfamiliar hand.

 

With a frown, Wesley tore it open, pulling out the folded sheet of paper enclosed. His eyes skipped down to the signature, and he raised an eyebrow when he saw Buffy’s name. He started reading from the beginning.

 

_“Dear Wesley,_

_It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you. I tried calling a couple of times, but I just got your machine. I figured I’d try a letter, since you’re all about the written word. Things here have been pretty normal. We managed to stop the nerds from taking over Sunnydale, although not before they killed a girl. Other than that, Xander and Anya tied the knot, although not without Xander getting serious cold feet. He probably would have backed out, but Spike figured out that there was a demon involved, and we managed to get him to go through with it._

_That’s pretty much it for me. You know if you need any help at all, just call, or come down. It’s been too long._

_Take care,_

_Buffy”_

 

He held the letter like a lifeline, hardly able to believe the opportunity that had just been presented. There was really no chance he’d be accepted back into the fold, not after Angel had attempted to kill him.

 

There were some things that could never be forgiven.

 

He had been certain that his life was over, that he had lost every friend he had, and with nothing to show for it, but Buffy’s missive reminded him that there was still hope. It might only be a faint hope, but if anyone could help him get Connor back, it would be the Slayer and her friends.

 

Although he’d been told that he could drive, Wesley had a feeling that it didn’t extend to driving three hours to Sunnydale. There wasn’t time to be indecisive, however. Every moment that Connor was in Quartoth was another moment too long.

 

~~~~~

 

“Hit me.”

 

“I’d rather avoid the headache.”

 

Buffy glared at him. “You know what I mean.”

 

Spike smirked. “Yeah, but it’s fun to wind you up.” He tossed her a card. “Nibblet?”

 

“Sure.” The girl stared at the cards in her hand with an adorably intense look on her face.

 

Spike leaned back in his chair, careful to avoid showing his hand. “Time to ante up.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I fold.”

 

“Nibblet?”

 

“Is this a good hand?”

 

When Dawn put her cards down face-up to reveal a royal flush, Spike fixed her with a stern expression. “You cheated.”

 

“I did not!” she shot back hotly. “And you were the one dealing.”

 

He had to acknowledge her point. “Fine, you win.”

 

Buffy smiled. “Come on, Spike. I’ll help.”

 

The stakes had been a little higher than he would have liked, since the loser was the one slated to clean up the kitchen. Between the three of them, dinner might get made, but the operation usually left the kitchen a disaster area.

 

Still, Spike didn’t mind helping, not when it allowed him to spend more time with Buffy—whether it was making dinner, going over homework with the two of them, or patrolling with the Slayer.

 

Dawn smiled smugly. “I’m going upstairs.”

 

“To do your homework,” Buffy insisted. “Do _not_ make me ask you again, otherwise you’ll be the one cleaning up for the rest of the week.”

 

“Fine,” she sighed. “Homework.”

 

When Dawn had trooped up the stairs, Buffy leaned in close to him. “You fed her those cards.”

 

He snorted, rising to go into the kitchen, Buffy on his heels. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

“Spike, I _know_ you, and I can tell when you’re cheating.” Buffy looked amused. “You were cheating tonight, and you lost.”

 

He shrugged. “Know the Bit’s been having a rough time at school recently, and I thought winning might cheer her up.” When she just stared at him, he focused on the running water in the sink. “Didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

 

“It’s not.”

 

Spike wondered how long it would be before Buffy figured out that the mild crush she knew about was actually love. She’d taken the news that he liked her pretty well; Spike didn’t know what she’d say when she figured out the truth.

 

“You gave me an odd look.”

 

“It was sweet, Spike.” She raised an eyebrow. “You keep surprising me.”

 

He looked at her warily. “In a good way, I hope?”

 

“Yeah, in a good way.” Buffy picked up the dishtowel. “Let’s get this taken care of.”

 

On occasion, Spike felt that they were moving towards something important, something real, but more often he was just content with her friendship.

 

It didn’t hurt that she hadn’t dated anyone since Riley.

 

Buffy was drying the last of the dishes when the doorbell rang. “Would you get that, Spike?”

 

“Sure, luv.” He was feeling more than a little resentful of the interruption; it wasn’t often that he and Buffy got time alone without her friends hanging about, or vampires and demons interrupting them on patrol.

 

What he’d expected was Willow or maybe one of the others, wanting Buffy for something; instead, he saw a man he vaguely recognized from Joyce’s funeral. “Can I help you?”

 

“Is Buffy here?”

 

His voice was a mere rasp, and Spike’s attention was drawn to the gauze pad on his neck. “Yeah. Can I tell her who’s here?”

 

“Wes?” Buffy’s voice came from behind him. “What are you—no, wait. What _happened_ to you?”

 

He offered her a pained smile. “My throat was cut.” Hesitating, he added, “I received your letter. I need your assistance.”

 

“Come in,” she insisted, ushering him inside.

 

Spike shut the door behind the other man, feeling even glummer. He remembered Wesley now; Buffy had said that he was her old Watcher, and that they’d hit it off when she’d been visiting her father almost two years ago.

 

He had a feeling that they were going to hit it off again.

 

“Spike, you remember Wesley, right? From Mom’s funeral.” Buffy had already settled Wesley on the couch.

 

Spike nodded shortly. “I remember. You look a bit worse for wear this time.”

 

“I’m very sorry to burst in like this,” Wesley said. “I would have called first, but—quite frankly, I wasn’t sure my nerve would hold if I had to explain the situation over the phone.”

 

“What situation?” Buffy pressed.

 

Wesley hesitated. “Has Angel said anything to you about having a son?”

 

Buffy’s eyes went wide, and Spike spoke for the both of them. “Vampires can’t have children. You’re a Watcher; you know that as well as I do.”

 

He winced. “Yes, well, it seems that this story is going to take a little longer than I thought.”

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley had nearly turned around and driven off when he’d reached Buffy’s house. The last time he’d been there was for Joyce’s funeral, and they hadn’t said much to one another at the time. There had been a few phone calls and emails in between—not much, but enough to keep the connection.

 

As friendly as they’d become, however, he had no hope that would continue once Buffy found out what he’d done. Angel was her first love, and he’d betrayed the vampire in the worst possible way.

 

He hadn’t expected to find Spike answering the door when he arrived, and he wondered what the vampire was doing there. Wesley knew that he and Buffy had become allies, but it appeared as though he was interrupting a night in.

 

Wesley was about to launch into his story when a teenage girl entered the living room. “I thought I heard someone come in,” she said. “What—” She stopped and stared at Wesley. “What’s _he_ doing here?”

 

He blinked, remembering all at once that Dawn was Buffy’s younger sister. She’d grown up quite a bit in the intervening years. “Hello, Dawn.”

 

“Wes is here to get some help, Dawnie,” Buffy said, a warning in her voice. “Be nice.”

 

Dawn crossed her arms in front of her. “Fine.”

 

Buffy gave him a look that said plainly, “Don’t mind my sister.” She sat down on the couch next to him. “Go ahead, Wesley.”

 

He took a deep breath, wondering how to begin. “You’ve heard of the law firm, Wolfram and Hart?”

 

“That’s the one Dru told me about when she breezed through town,” Spike inserted. He was leaning up against the doorway. “She said they’d brought Darla back, too, but I thought she was just talking about another one of her visions.”

 

“No, she was right,” Wesley replied. “They did bring Darla back. She’s Connor’s mother.”

 

Buffy raised a hand to stop him. “Whoa. Angel slept with Darla?”

 

“I think I told you that Angel had fired us?”

 

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. You said he was going through a dark time.” She glanced at Spike. “Drusilla told him that Angel had locked her and Darla in a room full of lawyers.”

 

“Talk about irony,” Dawn muttered.

 

Spike snorted. “Something like that, but she wasn’t dreaming that either, apparently.”

 

Wesley shook his head. “No.” Slowly, he began to tell them about the last few months—Darla showing up pregnant, her sacrificing herself, Holtz, Connor, the prophecy he’d been so sure meant that Angel would kill his own son. And his betrayal. He didn’t spare himself, knowing that he would need to be honest if Buffy were to help him.

 

“I won’t blame you if you don’t want to help,” Wesley finished. “I know I hurt Angel badly, and that he’s—”

 

“He’s my ex-boyfriend,” Buffy said, interrupting him. “You’re my friend. Besides, you might have screwed up, but at least it was with good intentions. I can’t say the same for other people I know.”

 

His shoulders slumped in relief. Buffy spoke the words he’d wanted to hear from Angel, from his friends. “Then you’ll help?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Buffy said, her expression reminding him of Cordelia. “You’re talking about a crazy vampire hunter from the 18th century who kidnapped an innocent baby. Now that the nerds are gone, we’ve been kind of bored.”

 

“Speak for yourself,” Spike murmured. “I was enjoying the break.”

 

Wesley looked at Buffy to see if the vampire was serious. “Be nice, Spike,” she said. “We’re helping.”

 

“Right, because I love helping Peaches.” Spike sighed. “But since it’s a baby, I’ll let it go.” Spike perked up. “’Course, if we save the kid, Peaches is gonna be in my debt, and I can live with that.”

 

Buffy smiled, as though she’d expected that. “What do we need to do, Wesley?”

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve been in the hospital, and most of my books are at the hotel with Angel. I don’t know what he’s done to try and get Connor back, but I have no doubt that he has tried.”

 

Buffy nodded. “We’ll go to the Magic Box tomorrow. Giles left most of his books, and there should be something there that can help. I’ll let Willow know, too.”

 

“You think that’s a good idea?” Spike asked.

 

She sighed. “I don’t know, but I’m not sure there’s a choice. Tara’s just not powerful enough.”

 

“She might be,” Dawn said. “We don’t know unless we ask.”

 

“It would save time if we asked both of them,” Buffy observed. “But I don’t really want to get in the middle of things.”

 

Wesley frowned. “Is there something wrong?”

 

“Willow and Tara broke up a couple of months ago,” Buffy explained. “Mostly because Willow was going a little crazy with the magic.”

 

The question he was going to ask was broken up by a yawn, and Buffy stood. “Come on. You can have the guest room.”

 

“I don’t want to put you out,” he protested.

 

She snorted. “What? You thought I was going to kick you out? That’s what it’s there for. Dawn, why don’t you show him upstairs? I’ll walk Spike out.”

 

“I have a bag in my car,” he said. “I wasn’t sure how long it would take to find Connor.”

 

Buffy smiled. “I’ll grab it. You look like you’re about ready to collapse.”

 

Wesley gave her his keys and told her where to find his bag, then watched her walk out with Spike thoughtfully. The two of them seemed very close, much closer than he would have expected.

 

“I hope you’re not getting any ideas,” Dawn said repressively.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Ideas,” she repeated. “About Buffy.”

 

“We’re friends,” he said defensively.

 

Dawn sniffed. “Sure you are. Everybody is Buffy’s friend. She has guys falling down at her feet every time she turns around.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Is there someone you have in mind for her?”

 

“Maybe,” Dawn said.

 

If he was going to be staying at the Summers’ place for any length of time, Wesley knew it was in his best interests to make peace with the younger girl. “Your sister and I are friends. I’m interested in someone else.”

 

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not just saying that?”

 

“No.”

 

“Okay.” Dawn sounded remarkably more cheerful. “Good.”

 

Wesley suddenly knew exactly who she had in mind. “Not Spike.”

 

She smirked at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Dawn pushed the door open. “This is the guest room. Sleep tight!”

 

He walked inside the room wearily, not quite able to believe that he was here, back in Sunnydale. This place had been the site of his greatest humiliation—until Justine had slit his throat. His failure to protect Connor was certainly worse. Much, much worse.

 

“Hey.” He turned to see Buffy standing in the doorway, holding his bag. “Here you go.”

 

“Thank you.” Wesley didn’t move to take it from her; he was too tired.

 

She gave him a sympathetic look. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Tired.” He hesitated. “And I’m in a bit of pain.”

 

“Do you have anything?” she asked. “I think I still have some pain medication from the last time I had to go to the hospital.”

 

He shook his head. “No, I have some.”

 

She nodded. “Okay. Good night, Wesley.”

 

“Buffy.” Wesley called her back, loath to let her out of his sight. She was the first friendly face he’d seen in days, and he couldn’t help but think that her letter had been a lifeline, whether she knew it or not. “Thank you.”

 

She didn’t ask what he was referring to. “You’re welcome.”

 

It was strange, Wesley thought, as she closed the door behind her. Being there should have felt strange, but instead it was comforting.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy looked out her bedroom window, unsurprised to see the orange point of light under her tree out front. She had known that Spike wasn’t thrilled about Wesley staying with her, and that he was jealous. If she didn’t know him as well as she did, Buffy might have missed it, because he’d hidden it pretty well.

 

She slid the window open. The breeze sent the faintest hint of cigarette smoke her way, and Buffy smiled to think of how comforting the scent had become.

 

The fact that Spike had feelings for her wasn’t a secret; the only person who was still oblivious was Xander, and that was only because he refused to see it.

 

Their relationship hadn’t changed overnight; Buffy had been none too sure about Lorne’s advice, particularly after Spike had attempted to get the chip out of his head. After that, however, he had been marginally more helpful, she’d reciprocated, then he’d been a little more helpful, and consequently she hadn’t punched him in the nose quite so often, until Spike had finally admitted that he “liked” her when she’d called him on it.

 

That had been shortly before Drusilla had rolled into town, and while Spike hadn’t staked her, he had forced her to leave, and had later shared the information he’d gleaned from her.

 

Funny, how easy it had become to trust him over the last year. At the moment, Buffy would have to admit that Spike was the one she trusted most, even beyond her friends.

 

She watched as he came out from under the tree, taking a last, long drag on his cigarette before flicking it out into the darkness. He glanced up at her window, and stopped, clearly surprised to see her there.

 

Buffy smiled and raised her eyebrow in a silent question, wondering what explanation he’d give for standing out in her front yard.

 

Spike just shrugged, glancing down at the ground in a shy gesture she’d come to expect. “Goodnight, Spike,” Buffy said quietly, knowing that he’d be able to hear her.

 

He raised a hand in farewell and turned to walk away, but not before she’d caught the naked longing on his face.

 

Buffy slid the window shut and sighed. She was going to have to do something about that, and soon. The question was what that something might be.


	3. Finding a Solution

**“Stitch in your knitted brow/And you don't know how/You're gonna get it out/Crushed under heavy chest/Trying to catch your breath/But it always beats you by a step, all right now/Making the best of it/Playing the hand you get/You're not alone in this/There's hope for the hopeless…” ~A Fine Frenzy, “Hope for the Hopeless”**   
  


Tara went about her nightly routine automatically, her mind occupied with her recent run-in with Willow. She knew the other girl wanted to get back together, but she still had the same concerns she’d had before. As far as she could tell, Willow still didn’t have much respect for the long-term consequences of magic. She thought that anything she wanted could be obtained with a spell, and anything that went wrong could be fixed.

 

Unfortunately, she was finding out that wasn’t true of their relationship, not after Willow had used Lethe’s Bramble to make her forget about a fight they’d had.

 

What had hurt most was that her friends had withdrawn as well. Tara knew they had been Willow’s friends first, and she understood that it was difficult not to take sides, but it was still hard to find herself alone after two years of having a makeshift family.

 

Not that they had meant to hurt her; Tara was certain that it was simply an unfortunate result of her decision, not an intentional slight.

 

Tara snuggled down under the covers, grateful that she’d been able to find a dorm room on such short notice. She knew that it was a minor miracle that someone else had moved out, just as she’d needed to move in. She had thought it only fair for her to let Willow remain in their old room since she was the one who had left.

 

She’d had good reason to leave, but hadn’t had a leg to stand on when it came to asking her to go.

 

Sleep was hard to find these days, though, and that night was no exception. Tara tossed and turned, occasionally dozing off only to wake with a start. By the time the sun finally rose, she was more than ready to rise with it.

 

Tara made it to her first class and managed to get through it with sheer willpower. She had every intention of going back to her dorm and collapsing, but the phone began ringing as soon as she walked through the door.

 

For a moment, she thought about ignoring it, but decided against it. She would hate to find out later that she was needed and hadn’t answered the call. “Hello?” she responded breathlessly.

 

“Tara? It’s Buffy. Is everything okay?”

 

“Yeah, I just got back from class,” she explained. “What’s up?”

 

“I was just wondering if you could meet us at the Magic Box,” Buffy replied. “There’s a situation that we need your help with.”

 

Tara hesitated. She knew that meant that Willow would be there, and that Buffy was trying to give her a heads up without being obvious. “When do you need me there?”

 

“We’re heading over there now, but whenever you can get there is fine.”

 

She looked longingly at her bed. “I can be there in a couple of hours.”

 

“Great.” Buffy sounded relieved, which was flattering, since Tara didn’t know how much she’d be able to do. “Thanks, Tara.”

 

She hung up and sighed. Surely an hour or so of sleep would help her feel a little more alert.

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley hadn’t quite realized what he was getting himself into by coming to Sunnydale. In the past, Buffy and her friends had been a tight knit group, but it seemed that things had changed dramatically. The undercurrents could very easily swallow him up.

 

“Why are we helping Angel?” Xander asked, sounding slightly belligerent.

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “Forget about Angel, Xan. We’re not helping Angel, we’re helping Wesley.” When his expression made it clear that he didn’t think that was much of an improvement, Buffy rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’re helping an innocent baby. Please tell me that you care.”

 

At that, he flushed deeply. “Yeah. Sorry, Buffy.”

 

“For the record,” she loudly announced, “we’re talking about kidnapping an infant and taking him to a hell dimension. We want to get him back because this is what we do. We help people. If anyone has a problem with that, they don’t have to be here.”

 

Wesley watched as Xander concentrated on the grain of the wood table and Willow’s lips tightened.

 

“I’m ready to help, Buffy,” Anya said. “What do you need me to do?”

 

Buffy smiled at her. “Thank you, Anya. Right now, we need to find out how we’re going to get to this particular dimension. Once we do that, we’ll need to find Connor within that dimension.”

 

“You’ll want Henrick’s Guide,” Anya said. “Giles left his copy here; it’s in the restricted section.”

 

Wesley perked up considerably. “Giles has a copy?”

 

“He left it here for us, but yes,” she said.

 

Buffy glanced at him. “Is that so strange?”

 

“It’s a very rare volume.” Wesley felt a smile form, and found that it felt foreign. “I didn’t think any were in existence.”

 

“Did you check e-Bay?” Anya asked. “You can find all kinds of things. Once I found—”

 

“Thanks, Anya,” Buffy said, interrupting her.

 

Willow stood. “I know where Giles put it. I think there might be a few other books that could help.”

 

The bell above the door rang and a blonde girl hurried in. “I’m sorry I’m late, Buffy. I—”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Buffy said. “We haven’t gotten very far.” She waved Tara to a chair. “Tara, this is Wesley. Wes, this is Tara, our other resident witch.”

 

“It’s a pleasure,” Wesley said.

 

She flushed slightly and nodded. “What’s up?”

 

Buffy began to explain, giving the shortened version of the story. “So, we need to find Connor, and we need to find him fast. There’s no telling what’s happening to him in that hell dimension.”

 

“Here.” Willow dumped the books on the table with a crash. “I’ll check out Henrick’s Guide.”

 

Wesley would have preferred to look through that book himself, but he wasn’t in his own backyard, and he was aware of it. He reached for another volume, only to have his hand collide with Tara’s. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No, it was my fault.” She gave him a shy smile. “Go ahead.”

 

Wesley thought about insisting, but from the chilly look that Willow was giving him, he had a feeling that it wouldn’t be a good idea. “Thank you.”

 

They worked in silence for a while, although Anya spent most of her time behind the counter; there were enough customers that she wouldn’t have been able to accomplish much researching with them anyway.

 

Later in the afternoon, Dawn came strolling into the shop. “Oh, research,” she said. “It’s just like old times.”

 

“You’ve got homework,” Buffy said.

 

“Actually, I don’t.” Dawn smiled smugly. “I finished it during study hall, so I can help you look.”

 

“Dawn—”

 

“You promised.”

 

And there was another one of those undercurrents that Wesley didn’t understand. There appeared to be a battle of wills occurring between Buffy and her sister, but he didn’t know what the real reasons were.

 

“Sit down,” Buffy sighed.

 

Xander slammed his book shut and stood. “I’m hungry. What does everybody want?”

 

“What are we getting?” Willow asked.

 

He shrugged. “I thought I’d grab a couple of pizzas.”

 

Wesley was used to Chinese, but he didn’t have anything against pizza. There were several topping requests, including anchovies from Dawn, which everyone shot down. “Wes, what do you want?” Buffy asked.

 

He shrugged. “Whatever you’ve ordered will be fine.”

 

Buffy’s eyes were concerned, but she didn’t say anything.

 

Xander left the shop just as Spike emerged from the back room. “We get anywhere yet?”

 

“Not yet,” Buffy replied.

 

He slumped in one of the chairs. “Let me know what you find.”

 

“Why don’t you grab a book and help out?” Buffy prodded.

 

Willow raised an eyebrow. “Most of the books left over are in Latin,” she said. “Or some kind of demonic language.”

 

Spike sat upright, his eyes growing cold. “Hand me one, then.”

 

Willow snorted. “Come on, Spike. We all know—”

 

Wesley put one of the Latin books in Spike’s outstretched hand. While he didn’t want to get in the middle of things, he knew that if the vampire helped, things would go that much faster. Spike opened it and began reading—in Latin—from the first page, then immediately translated. In a slow, steady voice, he read, “This book is not to be used by amateur magicians, who know not their own power. The spells within will ruin those who do not use them wisely, for they will open doors to terrible worlds.”

 

Spike smirked. “Bloody hell. I think I might have found something here.”

 

Willow and Buffy were staring at him, open-mouthed, while Dawn was looking rather smug. Apparently, the younger girl was well aware of Spike’s hidden talents. “When did you learn to read Latin?” Buffy asked, sounding both impressed and highly interested in this development.

 

“Long time ago,” Spike muttered, turning surly. “I’ll see what this holds, yeah?”

 

Buffy gave him a measuring look, and Wesley went back to his own book, wishing he could get an insider’s view of all the undercurrents he sensed.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn had been slightly mollified by Wesley’s insistence that he wasn’t interested in her sister, and as the afternoon passed, it seemed as though he hadn’t been lying. He was much too intent on the texts in front of him to be into her sister, and Buffy kept looking at Spike.

 

It looked as though her plan was working. It had taken long enough.

 

Anya had already flipped the sign to indicate that the store was closed, although they were still researching. Dawn knew that it wouldn’t be too long before Buffy declared that it was past her bedtime, even if it was a Friday night.

 

“We should get going,” Buffy announced, right on cue. “I need to patrol, and someone needs to take Dawn home.”

 

“I can do it,” Wesley said quietly. “It’s the least I can do.”

 

Buffy smiled. “If you would, I’d appreciate it. I know you probably want to keep going, but—”

 

“I’ll just take this one back with us, if that’s all right,” Wesley said, putting his hand on the text that Spike had picked up first. “It appears that there might be some useful information here.”

 

“I can keep looking for ways to locate Connor once we do figure out how to open a portal,” Willow said. “I think we’ll have a solution in a couple of days.”

 

Wesley’s eyes were shadowed. “The sooner the better.”

 

They all stood to leave, with Spike and Buffy leaving the shop first. Wesley had driven them over, so Dawn followed him back to his car. “Do you think this is going to work?” she asked.

 

“I don’t know.” He hesitated, then added, “It has to.”

 

She nodded, understanding a little of what he felt. She’d been desperate to get her mom back, too, although that hadn’t turned out all that well.

 

“Can I ask you a question?”

 

She was a little surprised at his request. “Sure.”

 

“What was going on in there today?” Wesley asked. “I feel as though I’m about to put my foot in it.”

 

Dawn knew exactly what he was referring to. “Well, Xander hates Spike, you know. Actually, he hates all vampires, and it doesn’t matter if they’re not evil. Willow doesn’t like Spike because he said that Tara was right and she was using too much magic.”

 

“When was this?” Wesley asked.

 

Dawn shrugged. “She did a spell that was supposed to stop the nerds, and it backfired. Big time. Spike yelled at her because Buffy almost got killed, then she did a sunlight spell while they were out on patrol, and Spike almost got incinerated, so Buffy yelled at Willow.”

 

Wesley blinked. “I see. What about Tara?”

 

“Tara broke up with Willow over the spell she did to catch the nerds.” Dawn was quiet, remembering. “The only reason she didn’t get someone killed is because the spell caught Buffy, instead of the nerds. Anybody else would have died. It was some kind of snare, but it was set up so that it would choke someone to death. Buffy hung on long enough so that Willow could release her.”

 

“Anything else I should know?” Wesley asked, sounding a little stunned.

 

“Giles left town because he said that Buffy didn’t need him anymore, so she isn’t very happy with him over that. Other than that, I think you’re caught up.” Dawn frowned, remembering one key bit of information that Wesley didn’t know, unless Buffy had told him at some point. “Oh, and I used to be a Key that would break down the walls between dimensions. We haven’t figured out if that’s still true.”

 

Wesley slammed the brakes on. “What did you say?”

 

“I’m not a real girl,” Dawn said. “Look, can we have this conversation at my house? I think it requires ice cream, and I’m hungry again.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Dawn smiled. Usually, everyone wanted to know about Buffy, not her little sister. It would be nice to be the “interesting Summers” for once.

 

~~~~~

 

“When did you learn to speak Latin?” Buffy demanded as soon as they were away from the shop.

 

Spike shrugged. “I told you. It was a long time ago.”

 

“When you were human?” she pressed.

 

He didn’t reply.

 

“Come on, Spike. You never said anything before.”

 

“I didn’t want to be roped into researching.” He offered her a wry smile. “Think you might know how that goes, luv.”

 

She nodded, knowing exactly how that went; Buffy wished it had been that easy for her to avoid looking through the heavy books, but it seemed to be part of a Slayer’s job description. Giles had done a lot of that—more than she’d realized until he’d left town. He’d said that she didn’t need him anymore, and maybe that was true insofar as she hadn’t needed a Watcher as much.

 

Buffy missed him, though, and she’d realized that she needed her mentor, if nothing else.

 

“I wonder if Wesley would stay,” she mused.

 

“Stay where?” Spike asked suspiciously.

 

Buffy gave him a look to indicate that he was being dense. “Stay here, you know, as a Watcher. I mean, if Angel doesn’t want him back.”

 

Spike relaxed slightly. “Yeah. He might be some help.”

 

“Unless you want the job,” Buffy suggested sweetly, knowing exactly where his jealousy was coming from. “Since you _can_ speak more than one language—”

 

“Don’t even say it,” he warned her.

 

She grinned at him. “What? You hate books that much? I know I’ve seen you reading before, when it’s not for research.”

 

Spike looked very uncomfortable. “Yeah, sometimes I pick up a book when I’m bored. When the telly’s broken.”

 

Buffy wasn’t sure she bought that explanation, but she was willing to let it go. “So, what kind of book do you pick up when you’re bored?”

 

Spike froze. “Did you hear that?”

 

“No, and I’m pretty sure you didn’t either,” she shot back. “Spike—”

 

He took off running, and Buffy realized that his acute hearing had picked up what she couldn’t. Not that he wasn’t trying to hide something from her; clearly he didn’t want her to know what he read, which made her think that it was something very not-scary.

 

Buffy smiled as she saw the demon; it was big and ugly—just like she liked them. She would have to discover Spike’s secrets later.

 

~~~~~

 

“I don’t see why Buffy has to keep him around,” Xander complained.

 

Anya frowned. She knew that Xander needed a recovery period before starting the next round of sex, but she didn’t see what Buffy or Spike had to do with that. “Why are we talking about Buffy, Xander? I thought we agreed we wouldn’t do that while we’re in bed.”

 

“We did,” Xander agreed quickly. “I’m sorry, An. It’s just that I can’t stand Spike being around, and he’s always there.”

 

Anya raised herself up on her elbow to stare at her husband. “You know it’s just a matter of time before the unresolved sexual tension gets resolved, right?”

 

Xander looked horrified. “Please don’t say things like that.”

 

“Why?” Anya pulled the sheet up to cover herself. “Buffy can do whatever she wants to, right? She’s got her life, and we’ve got ours.”

 

He finally seemed to recognize that their nice evening was in jeopardy. “I worry about her, that’s all. She deserves someone better.”

 

“Better than Spike?” Anya had no idea what Xander’s problem was. Sure, Spike was a vampire, but he’d always been nice to her, and he had certainly helped them out with Glory and the nerds. He hadn’t tried to kill anybody in a long time. “Is it because he’s a demon?”

 

“Well—” Whatever Xander was going to say died on his lips as he realized how close he was to a night on the couch. “No, of course not. It’s just that he’s Spike.”

 

Anya was trying to understand, she really was. Xander’s obsession with Buffy’s love life was getting old, however. He’d insisted on bringing a blind date for Buffy to her birthday party, even though he knew how the Slayer’s birthdays always turned out.

 

Enough was enough, however, and she was ready to put her foot down.

 

“No more, Xander,” Anya said firmly. “You are not allowed to talk about Buffy or Spike in our bedroom. Ever.”

 

“An—”

 

“If you do, you will be sleeping on the couch, and I will take care of myself.” She gave him a hard look. “Do you understand?”

 

Xander must have sensed that she meant business, because he swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

 

“And if you don’t want me to get the wrong idea about our relationship, you’d better start convincing me that I’m the most important woman in your life,” she continued.

 

“What wrong idea?” he asked, bewildered.

 

There were times when Anya wished she were still a demon. This was one of them; she could have used her true face to hammer her point home. Xander could be so dense sometimes. “That you’re in love with Buffy, and I’m second best.”

 

His eyes went wide, and he looked stunned enough that Anya believed him when he said, “That’s not true! You’re the only woman I love.”

 

“Prove it,” she challenged him.

 

Xander set about doing just that.

 

Anya would give him points on one thing, at least; he was very determined when he wanted to be.


	4. Finding the Door

**“I really want you to really want me/But I really don't know if you can do that/I know you want to know what's right/But I know it's so hard for you to do that/And time's running out as often it does/And often dictates that you can't do that/But fate can't break this feeling inside/That's burning up through my veins/I really want you…No matter what I say or do/The message isn't getting through/And you're listening to the sound/Of my breaking heart.” ~James Blunt, “I Really Want You”**

 

Wesley stood up as Buffy and Spike came through the front door, both of them covered with some kind of sticky, brown substance. “What happened?”

 

“Big, ugly demon,” Buffy explained. “Unfortunately, it didn’t come with a warning label.”

 

He frowned. “What did it look like? There are some demons whose blood is corrosive, or can have other negative effects.”

 

Buffy and Spike both looked alarmed. “I didn’t get a good look at it,” Buffy admitted.

 

“Greenish skin, brown spots,” Spike said. “Teeth were pointed, although it looked like it had a few missing. Think it had a tail.”

 

Wesley searched his memory for demons that description might apply to, but there were none coming to mind. “I’d have to do research,” he admitted. “My best advice would be to get it off as quickly as possible.”

 

They looked at one another again, and Wesley could see the wheels in their heads turning. “Ladies first,” Spike said.

 

Buffy blushed. “Thanks. And don’t sit on the couch.”

 

Spike gave her retreating form a look that was half bemused, half annoyed. “Like I would!” he called out. He patted his pockets as though looking for something, then abruptly stopped. “Bloody hell.”

 

“Something wrong?”

 

“Can’t smoke inside,” Spike replied. “Where’s the Nibblet?”

 

“She went upstairs to her room.” He watched as Spike gingerly removed his coat, which had taken most of the slime. Spike put it down in the hallway, then took a seat on the chair.

 

At his raised eyebrow, Spike shrugged. “She said not to sit on the couch. Didn’t say anything about the chair.”

 

“Good point.”

 

The silence held, and Wesley wondered if Buffy had told him about what Lorne had said. It seemed like a lifetime ago now; everything was so different.

 

“Why did you come here?”

 

Wesley was startled by the question; he thought the answer would be obvious. “I needed help getting Connor back.”

 

“You could have gone to your mates,” Spike pointed out ruthlessly. “They would have helped.”

 

“Angel—”

 

Spike waved a hand dismissively. “Peaches tried to kill me half a dozen times, and he had a fair shot at least once. He might have tried, but he would have done it if he’d really wanted to.”

 

“He’s not going to forgive me.”

 

“Probably not. He never did know how to let go of a grudge.” Spike’s gaze was piercing. “Well? Why’d you come?”

 

What Wesley hadn’t mentioned were his feelings for Fred, and how he’d come to be so isolated in the first place. Nor had he mentioned what she’d said to him at the hospital, rubbing salt in the wounds already left.

 

He’d tried, and they hadn’t seen it. Or maybe they just hadn’t cared.

 

“They weren’t going to listen to me, and Willow is the most powerful witch I know in the vicinity. At least, she’s the most powerful one that I trust.” It was as close to the truth as Wesley was willing to get.

 

Spike shook his head. “It’s always a girl, isn’t it?”

 

“What?”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow, as though he were being deliberately obtuse. “Come on. It’s gotta be a girl, some bint who done you wrong.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Wesley said stiffly.

 

Spike smirked. “Sure you do. You just don’t want to admit it.”

 

“Admit what?” Buffy asked from the doorway, her hair wet, and wearing flannel pajamas covered with rabbits.

 

Wesley scowled. He didn’t want to rehash this with anyone; it was too painful still. “Nothing.”

 

Spike rose. “I’ll just get cleaned up.”

 

“I put your clean clothes on the sink,” Buffy said.

 

“Thanks.”

 

When he’d gone, Wesley turned to Buffy, blurting out the first thing that came to mind in order to change the subject. “Why are his clothes here?”

 

Buffy frowned, clearly not thinking that it was any of his business, but she answered readily enough. “This isn’t the first time a demon has exploded on us. The nerds sent a couple of doozies, and Spike took the brunt of it. Since he doesn’t have a real shower, I let him use mine, and he left his dirty clothes here.”

 

“I see.” Wesley wondered if she knew that Spike was in love with her; a blind man could see it. “I just—I wasn’t sure if your relationship—well, I didn’t want to somehow put my foot in it.”

 

She laughed, as though the very idea amused her, but Wesley noted that it sounded forced. When she replied, Buffy’s voice was thoughtful. “No, it’s not like that.”

 

“Right.”

 

Buffy sat down next to him on the couch. “What about you? I know you said you were dating that one girl—Virginia? Are you guys still together?”

 

“No.” Wesley wondered how deep he really wanted to delve into his love life with Buffy, but reflected that it couldn’t be much worse than hers. “She didn’t care for the danger inherent in my profession, and I refused to quit.”

 

“Makes sense,” she said, sounding sympathetic. “On both sides, I mean. No one since then, huh?”

 

“No. Except for Fred, but she’s with Gunn now.”

 

She put a hand on his arm in a wordless gesture of sympathy. “I’m sorry. I’d wondered from what you’d said this past fall, but… I didn’t hear from you again, and we were busy with the nerds, so I thought—”

 

“It’s fine,” Wesley said quietly, suddenly feeling the need to explain. He couldn’t do it in front of Spike, but he thought that Buffy might understand. “She came to the hospital after Angel tried to kill me. I thought she’d come to visit, that perhaps she realized what I was trying to do, but she came to tell me not to go back to the hotel.”

 

“Oh. Ouch.”

 

“Something like that.”

 

“What will you do after we find Connor?”

 

“You sound certain that we will,” Wesley observed. His own faith was not quite as sure.

 

She shrugged. “I _am_ the Slayer. This is what I do.”

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I suppose it will depend on Angel’s reaction.”

 

“If you wanted to stay, you could,” she began. “We can always use another book guy.”

 

Wesley was about to thank her for her offer when Spike came into the room, carrying his soiled clothing under one arm. He froze in the doorway upon seeing them, Buffy’s hand still on his arm. “Think I’ll go home now.”

 

Anyone would have been able to see the jealousy mingled with despair in his eyes, and Wesley didn’t think that Buffy was that blind. “Spike—”

 

“I’ll see you later.”

 

“Wait!” She looked at Wesley. “I—”

 

“I think I’m going to bed,” he said delicately. “I’m rather tired.”

 

Spike was out the front door before he got the words out, and Wesley watched as Buffy rushed after him, not caring about what she was wearing, or that her hair was wet, or even that her feet were bare. If Wesley had been able to drum up any emotion at all, he might have spared some disapproval for the incipient relationship.

 

He knew that he was living in a glass house, however, and he also knew that Buffy appeared to be happy. Buffy had spared him judgment, and he would do the same for her.

 

Besides, Wesley had worked for a vampire in the past. He didn’t think that sleeping with one was any worse.

 

~~~~~

 

“Spike, stop!”

 

He kept going, having no desire to hear her explanations for why she was so cozy with the ex-Watcher. Buffy might say they were just friends, but it hadn’t looked that way to him.

 

“Spike!” Her hand closed around his upper arm, and she physically turned him. “What is your problem?”

 

“Don’t have a problem,” he shot back. “I just thought it was time for me to leave.”

 

She rolled her eyes impatiently. “Oh, come on. You left because you’re jealous.”

 

It was out there now, and Spike was surprised that she’d addressed it. His feelings were a poorly kept secret, something neither of them had been willing to acknowledge up until now.

 

Buffy’s expression was defiant, and it was clear that she had no intention of backing down from her accusation. “Yeah, what if I was?” Spike challenged her. “You know how I feel.”

 

“I do.”

 

He deflated slightly. “And how do you feel?”

 

“I care about you—a lot.” She looked away uncomfortably. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to take this anywhere.”

 

“Is that why you’re moving on with the Watcher?”

 

“Ugh!” It was a sound a pure frustration. “Wesley’s in love with someone else, Spike! We’re friends!” She glared at him. “I’m allowed to have other male friends, you know.”

 

“Didn’t say you couldn’t,” he muttered, knowing that he’d made an arse of himself. “Just—you looked pretty cozy.”

 

“He’s going through a rough time.” She took a deep breath. “Look, Spike, let’s just find this kid, then we can figure out what to do about this.”

 

“What ‘this?’” he asked suspiciously.

 

She pointed at the two of them. “This. Us. Whatever.”

 

“You promise?”

 

Buffy raised her hand, as though swearing a solemn oath. “I swear that when all this is over, we will have that conversation.”

 

Spike knew he had to be satisfied with that; it was more than he thought he’d get. “Right.” He looked down at her bare feet. “You’d probably better get inside.”

 

“Yeah.” She turned to go, then paused. “Spike?”

 

“What?”

 

“We’re friends, right?”

 

Spike couldn’t quite believe that she’d admitted to that much out loud. “’Course we are.”

 

“That’s why. If it gets complicated, you know.”

 

He knew what she meant, and it gave him hope. “It always gets complicated, luv,” he said gently.

 

“I know.” She smiled a little wistfully. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

“Sure thing.” Spike watched as she walked up the walk, back inside the house, and his heart was a little lighter when he began his own journey home.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara shifted the armful of books, trying to brace the stack against the wall while she opened the door with her free hand. “Here.” A hand came out of nowhere and pulled the door open, and Wesley grabbed the top few books from the stack.

 

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly. “I thought these might help.”

 

“I appreciate it,” Wesley said quietly. “Time is of the essence.”

 

“My mom left me a bunch of books,” she explained. “I don’t know if there’s anything in there because it’s mostly white magic, and opening portals can take dark magic, but maybe—”

 

He smiled. “I’m willing to try anything at this point, to be honest, although I wouldn’t ask anyone to make a sacrifice like that.”

 

“You’ll make it yourself?” Tara asked, catching the look in his eye.

 

Wesley shrugged. “If it comes to that, yes.”

 

She set her books down on the table. “Where are Spike and Buffy?”

 

He shrugged. “I haven’t seen Spike since last night, and Buffy said something about classes and training. I got the impression that she’s not much for research.”

 

“She isn’t,” Tara agreed. “She’ll try, but it’s not really her thing.” She looked over at Anya, who appeared to be busy with paperwork. Tara knew that the ex-demon had been working a lot more since Giles had gone back to England; she certainly had a lot less time to devote to helping out the group, unless it was after-hours.

 

Wesley sat down at the table, pulling one of the books towards him. “I’m grateful that Buffy’s willing to do as much as she is. She could have refused.”

 

“That’s not what she does,” Tara replied. “She’s the Slayer.”

 

“Yes.” He opened the book and began skimming the pages quickly.

 

Tara frowned. “What about the one you took back with you last night? I thought that had a lead.”

 

Wesley shook his head. “I’m afraid not. It kept talking about the Key, although it wasn’t specific. Something about the Key to all dimensions, but I certainly don’t have time—” He stopped, suddenly feeling like an idiot. “Bloody hell. I can’t believe I missed that. It’s talking about Dawn.”

 

She flipped through the book impatiently. “Where’s the reference?”

 

He leaned over her shoulder, quickly finding the page. “The text is clear that the Key is an energy source, however.”

 

“Dawn was an energy source,” Tara explained absent-mindedly. “That was what Glory was after.”

 

“I see,” Wesley breathed. “Buffy told me about her, but she didn’t tell me that Glory was going to use her to actually open doors. When Dawn told me she was the Key, I thought that was done, but now—”

 

Tara gave him a reassuring smile. “I think we all tend to forget that Dawn wasn’t always Buffy’s little sister.” She remembered how close they’d all been then, fighting the Hellgod and protecting Dawn. That had mattered more than anything else. “Once Glory was dead, we all thought that Dawn was, you know, human.”

 

“I see.” Wesley sat down. “Somehow, I don’t see Buffy allowing us to use Dawn in a spell.”

 

“We might not need Dawn,” Tara replied, deciphering the Latin with some trouble. “We might just need a little of her blood. That’s what Glory wanted. The only problem would be closing the portal.”

 

“How were you supposed to close the portal if Glory had managed to get what she wanted?” Wesley asked.

 

Tara shook her head. “Dawn would have been killed. Spike was the one who stopped the ritual.”

 

“I see.”

 

Tara thought he probably did; Wesley probably noticed a lot. “Here. It talks about using the energy from the Key and feeding it through a focus. We’d have to find some way to contain the power, though. It could get very bad, otherwise.”

 

“How long would we be able to keep the portal open?” Wesley asked. “It would have to be long enough to find Connor.”

 

Tara shook her head. “I think we’d have to find some way to combine the two spells, so that the portal opens up where he is.”

 

“Is that even possible?” Wesley asked.

 

She frowned. “Maybe. One of my mom’s books talks about doing two spells at once. I might be able to do one spell while you do the other.”

 

“What about Willow?”

 

Tara sighed. “Willow’s trying to steer clear of the magic right now. She could do it, but—”

 

“It would be better if it were someone else?” Wesley suggested.

 

“Something like that.” Tara met his eyes. “If we need her, though, she’ll do it. Willow knows what she’s doing.”

 

“Except when she’s trying to kill someone?” Wesley asked.

 

Tara shook her head. “No, she knew what she was doing there, too. That’s why we broke up.”

 

“Ah.”

 

She sighed. “Has Buffy told you what the nerds did?”

 

Wesley shook his head. “She said that they sent a few demons after her, but no more than that.”

 

“One of the demons almost killed me,” Tara admitted. She rolled up her sleeve to show him the scars, hearing his sharply indrawn breath; she tended to wear long sleeves these days. “If Spike and Buffy hadn’t found me in time, I probably would have bled to death.”

 

“Willow wanted revenge,” Wesley said quietly.

 

Tara nodded. “She almost got it, but her trap caught Buffy, because she didn’t tell anybody what she was doing. Things got pretty bad after that.”

 

It was a deliberate understatement. Words couldn’t adequately capture just how awful those days were. Willow had attempted to kill three people, and while Tara understood why, she had believed that her girlfriend was out of control. When she’d set off the sunlight spell near Spike one night while she’d been out on patrol with Buffy, the Slayer had begun to agree that her friend needed help.

 

For now, Willow was avoiding using magic, except for emergencies, and no one had missed the fact that Buffy wasn’t inviting Willow along on patrol anymore. Tara didn’t know when—or if—things would ever be the same again.

 

“What happened to the nerds?” Wesley asked quietly.

 

Tara smiled. “Buffy called the cops on them. They had stolen a diamond, and there was a lot of evidence that they were planning several armed robberies.”

 

“Did that satisfy Willow?”

 

“No.” Tara desperately wanted to change the subject; she was trying to move on, even though it was hard to do when she was constantly running into her ex-girlfriend. “Here.” She tapped the book. “I think this is where we’re going to have to start.”

 

“Buffy’s not going to be happy,” Wesley observed.

 

Tara didn’t disagree.

 

~~~~~

 

“Absolutely not,” Buffy said flatly. “You’re not using my sister to open a portal. We’ve been through this before.”

 

“It’s not the same, Buffy,” Tara said. “This would be controlled. Glory had to spill Dawn’s blood at a certain time and place; the same circumstances won’t be around again for centuries.”

 

Buffy shook her head adamantly. “No. I’m sorry, Wes, but this is my sister. It’s too dangerous.”

 

“What’s too dangerous for your sister?” Dawn asked, coming through the front door of the shop.

 

Buffy glared at her. Dawn had the worst timing. “Nothing.”

 

Dawn scowled. “Come on, Buffy. If I can help, I want to.”

 

“I said no,” Buffy repeated. “There’s no way. We don’t know what could happen. If the spell goes wrong, we could end up where we were last spring.”

 

Dawn sat down at the table. “What’s going on?”

 

Wesley shifted. “It’s an idea that we presented to Buffy. She’s not in favor.”

 

“Buffy likes to pretend that we don’t live on a Hellmouth, and that I’m not in danger every time I leave the house,” Dawn said with an edge of sarcasm. “On the other hand, we’ve had demons crash through our front door _and_ our front window, so I’m not really safe there either.”

 

“Dawnie—” Buffy had no idea how she was supposed to convince her sister that she wasn’t trying to ruin her life by protecting her. The spell that Tara and Wesley had found seemed all too similar to what Glory had wanted to do on top of that tower.

 

And the only reason that had turned out okay was because Spike was so damn stubborn.

 

“No.” Dawn set her chin stubbornly. “Look, Buffy, you’d already died once by the time you were my age, and look at you now. If I can help, I want to.”

 

Buffy took a deep breath, knowing that Dawn had a point. If the spell could be done safely, with no risk to her or the world at large, then it might be an avenue worth pursuing. “Okay. If—and I do mean _if_ —I even consider this, I have to know that it won’t hurt her, and that I won’t have to worry about all the dimensions bleeding into this one.”

 

“I can’t make any promises, Buffy,” Tara said honestly. “There’s always some risk, but I think we can do a few things to make it safer.”

 

“Safer is good,” Buffy acknowledged. “What about our other options?”

 

“The other alternatives take dark magic that’s likely to have a deleterious effect,” Wesley said.

 

Buffy frowned. “Huh?”

 

“He means that it’s going to have unpleasant consequences,” Tara translated. “Any of this could. In fact, it could be that Dawn’s blood no longer has any kind of magical properties, and the spell will fizzle.”

 

“But it could work,” Dawn said. “I could still be the Key.”

 

“We don’t know that,” Buffy insisted. If her sister was still the Key, she was still in danger—more than she was just by virtue of being the Slayer’s sister.

 

Dawn glared at her. “Buffy—”

 

Tara broke in. “There might be something we can do to test the theory that won’t harm Dawn, and could save us time.”

 

“What’s that?” Buffy asked.

 

“It’s a simple spell,” Wesley explained. “It’s used to reveal whether or not something has magical properties.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Good. We’ll do that first.” She refused to meet Dawn’s eyes, knowing that the younger girl was probably angry at her for her caution. All Dawn could see was that she was being overprotective, but Buffy wasn’t about to lose another member of her family.

 

If she hadn’t been prepared to sacrifice Dawn’s life to save the world, there was no way she was going to trade her sister for Angel’s son. Maybe it was selfish, but Buffy wasn’t about to compromise.


	5. Revelations

**“…You and I have something different/And I'm enjoying it cautiously/I'm battle scarred, I am working oh so hard/To get back to who I used to be/He's disappearing/Fading suddenly/I'm so close to being yours/Won't you stay with me/Please/Near to you, I am healing/But it's taking so long/'Cause though he's gone/And you are wonderful/It's hard to move on…I only know that I am/Better where you are.” ~A Fine Frenzy, “Near to You”**

 

“I can’t believe you’re doing this, Buffy,” Willow objected. “You can’t. Not without me.”

 

Buffy sighed. “We talked about this, Will. You’re staying away from the magic.”

 

“ _You_ talked about it,” she retorted. “I agreed, but it’s been months.”

 

“Two months,” Buffy shot back. “It took Spike two weeks to heal.”

 

Willow frowned. “It’s not my fault that he got in the way. I told him to duck.”

 

It was the wrong argument to use, in Buffy’s opinion. While Willow had warned Spike to take cover, it had been too little, too late. If she’d called the warning just a second later, it _would_ have been too late.

 

Since the spell had followed hard on the heels of Spike chewing the witch out, Buffy had a feeling that Willow’s failure to give an earlier warning fell under the heading of “accidentally-on-purpose.”

 

“I’m not having this conversation with you again,” Buffy finally said. “You’re welcome to give us a hand, but Tara and Wes are going to handle the magic for now. We might end up needing you, but I think—”

 

“You can’t force me to sit this out,” Willow protested. “I’m your big gun!”

 

Buffy swallowed her immediate reply, thinking that it would probably just make matters worse. Willow didn’t like being reminded of her mistakes, but Buffy wasn’t about to forget, not again, not when there was so much at stake. “Yes, you are,” she agreed. “But you’re my cannon. Right now I need a smaller gun.”

 

Willow didn’t look happy about that analogy, but she didn’t try to argue about it either, for which Buffy was grateful. “What’s first?”

 

“Tara’s going to do the reveal spell to see if Dawn’s blood will still open portals.” Buffy still didn’t like the idea of Dawn being involved in anything other than a pure researcher capacity, but this stage was safe enough. “After that, we’ll see.”

 

“Fine. What do you want me to do?”

 

Buffy supposed she ought to be grateful that Willow was willing to help at all, but she was having trouble dredging up the energy. She had too many things to do to waste time on smoothing over hurt feelings. “We still need to figure out how we’re going to locate Connor.”

 

Willow nodded. “I think I have a few leads in that area.”

 

“Great.” Buffy forced a smile. “I appreciate your help.” She glanced at the clock. “I’m supposed to be meeting Spike for patrol. I’ll be back later.”

 

The tentative plan was to do the reveal spell once she and Spike were done with patrol. The next day was Saturday, so Dawn didn’t have to worry about classes. Once they had figured out whether or not that route was open to them, they could proceed.

 

Those had been Wesley’s words, and his suggestion, and Buffy had agreed. She wondered what Spike’s reaction to the plan would be.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but he’d wondered whether Dawn was really just a normal girl these days. In his experience, you couldn’t take something that was inherently magical and reduce it to a mundane form. It was probably better to figure it out sooner, rather than later, and he said as much.

 

“Good thing you told Red to keep her nose out of things, though,” he commented. “I don’t trust her.”

 

Buffy frowned. “I don’t think she meant any harm, Spike.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “You know better than that, Slayer. The girl is a menace.”

 

“She is not.” Buffy glared at him. “Just because you don’t like my friends—”

 

“I might like your friends if they treated me half-way decent.” Spike generally tried to keep his mouth shut where it concerned Buffy’s friends. Whether she thought they were in the wrong or not, she didn’t like hearing them criticized. Her loyalty was commendable, but he thought it was misplaced in this instance. To emphasize his point, Spike added, “I like Tara and Dawn well enough.”

 

She opened her mouth to make some sort of retort, but fell silent. “Willow and Xander have reason to not like you. You _did_ kidnap them and threaten to kill them.”

 

Spike snorted. “That was years ago. Besides, I’ve saved both their hides since then.”

 

He noticed that Buffy didn’t try to dispute that, and he wasn’t surprised when she changed the subject. “We should probably head back now. I want to be there when they do the spell.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Spike kept pace with her easily; it had been a quiet evening, something he’d learned to appreciate. Although too many nights with nothing to kill was a bit boring, Buffy tended to relax and talk more freely under those circumstances.

 

By the time they arrived at the Magic Box, Tara and Wesley were putting the finishing touches on the spell. Both Xander and Anya were present as well; Anya because she wanted to make sure they didn’t damage her shop, and Xander because Anya was there. Willow was watching the proceedings with an expression that was half resentful and half longing.

 

Dawn, of course, was excited. Spike had to admit that he found her enthusiasm endearing. “How much longer?” she asked.

 

Wesley’s tone indicated that this was not the first time she’d asked the question, and that he was beginning to run out of patience. “About two minutes less than the last time you asked, Dawn.”  


“But you said two minutes,” she pointed out reasonably.

 

Tara interrupted whatever response Wesley was about to make. “If you keep asking us how long it will be, it’s going to take that much longer.”

 

Dawn subsided, slouching against the wall. “Fine.”

 

Buffy couldn’t quite hide her smirk. “Patience is a virtue, Dawnie.”

 

Dawn didn’t bother replying.

 

Spike watched the proceedings with a growing sense of unease. Although he knew that magic was sometimes necessary, he still didn’t like using it. There were always consequences, sometimes unintended, often unexpected, and rarely pleasant.

 

“We’re ready, Dawn,” Tara said as Wesley stepped back from the circle to stand next to Buffy. “I need you to stand across from me.”

 

Dawn swallowed, her nerves showing now. She stepped forward readily enough, however, and Spike was impressed by her courage. Spike watched as she followed Tara’s instructions, holding out her finger to be pricked.

 

The spell required a surprisingly small amount of blood, for which Spike was grateful. There was something about the scent of Dawn’s blood that presented a huge temptation, much like Slayer’s blood. Even if Dawn was simply human these days, she had still been created out of Buffy, and that was bound to have an affect.

 

Silence fell over the training room, and Spike found himself growing bored. The spell seemed to mostly consist of Tara staring at the small stone Dawn had smeared her blood on, and he wondered how long they would have to wait for an answer.

 

Suddenly, the stone flashed with a green light, causing both Tara and Dawn to take an involuntary step back, outside the circle. The light died immediately, and Tara took a deep breath. “I guess that answers the question.”

 

“It does?” Buffy asked.

 

“Dawn’s blood still holds magical properties,” Wesley explained softly, “but probably not anything that she can control.” He added, “That’s probably not information you’ll want to become common knowledge.”

 

“Other than Giles, we’re the only ones who know that Dawn is the Key,” Buffy said. “Now what?”

 

Willow cleared her throat. “I don’t think we have much chance of being able to open a portal exactly where Angel’s son is.”

 

“You wouldn’t,” Anya stated bluntly. “Quartoth is not a nice dimension, and magic doesn’t work the same way there.”

 

Buffy expelled a breath. “So, where does that leave us? We can get there, but we have no guarantee of finding the kid?”

 

“Not exactly,” Tara said. “I think we can open the portal somewhere close, then reopen it a few hours later.”

 

Spike didn’t like the sound of that. “Is that really gonna give us enough time?”

 

“It had better,” Anya said. “Time moves differently in most of those dimensions. A lot of time could pass there while no time passes here, or vice versa.”

 

Buffy grimaced. “That’s comforting.”

 

Spike saw another problem. “If we’ve got to go looking for the kid, and time does pass differently, how are we going to know when you lot are opening the portal?”

 

“I don’t think that’s as big of a problem,” Wesley said. “Because Buffy and Dawn are related, there is a very good possibility that Dawn’s blood will call to Buffy’s.”

 

“There are a lot of maybes there,” Xander observed. “Is it really a good idea to send Buffy after this kid? If we can’t get her back, we’re out a Slayer, and if what you’re saying is true, even if she does come back, she could be years older.”

 

Wesley looked at Buffy. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

 

She shook her head. “I risk my life every day, Xander. This isn’t that different. How soon before we’re ready?” Buffy directed her question towards Tara.

 

“Tomorrow afternoon?” she guessed. “We can give you four hours, then open a portal every other hour after that. We’ll try to get you as close to Connor as possible, but you might need to find him and then return to the spot where you came out.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Okay.” She turned to Spike. “Do you want to take a trip with me? Watch my back?”

 

He smirked. “I’d like to see you try to leave me behind.”

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley was relieved that they finally had a plan that appeared workable; it was more than he’d had a few days before. For a moment, he could allow himself to relax in the comfort of Buffy’s living room. Tomorrow was soon enough to worry about the rest of it.

 

“Here.”

 

He took the proffered beer. “Thank you.”

 

“Spike keeps them around. I’m beginning to understand why he likes them.” Buffy sat down on the other end of the couch and took a sip from her own bottle. “How’s your neck?”

 

“It’s healing,” he replied. “The stitches should probably come out soon. I’m supposed to go back to the doctor in a day or two for that.”

 

“I can probably do it,” she offered. “I’ve done grosser things.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“No problem.”

 

“For this, as well.” He met her eyes. “You didn’t have to do this, Buffy.”

 

She shrugged. “Sure I did. We’re talking about kidnapping, maybe murder.”

 

Wesley knew that was a possibility. Holtz might easily have decided to kill Connor, or perhaps had been unable to protect him in a different dimension. Wesley might be sending her on a fool’s errand.

 

“If he’s dead—”

 

“Then at least Angel will know,” Buffy said softly. “If that happens to be true, I think it might be better if you let me tell him. He probably won’t try to kill me.”

 

Wesley laughed bitterly. “Perhaps I should let him.”

 

“You know, Giles suggested that I might have to kill Dawn to prevent the world from going to hell—literally,” Buffy informed him. “I was really pissed off at him at the time, but he was right. If it had come down to that, if I’d been forced to make that choice, I would have, but it would have killed me.” She looked at him. “All things being equal, if you had it to do over again, would you?”

 

He didn’t hesitate. “To keep Angel from harming his own child? Yes. Although that wouldn’t have happened.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Buffy replied. “And it’s not your fault that that bitch sliced your throat.”

 

Wesley smiled at her vehement tone. “Thank you.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell the others?” Buffy asked. “I mean, I can guess about Angel, since he was acting weird, but what about Cordelia?”

 

Wesley lifted an eyebrow. “She was with the Groosalug.”

 

“The who-huh?”

 

“The Groosalug, a man—well, of sorts—who came from another dimension.” He frowned, trying to find some way to condense the story, but unable to. “Suffice it to say that Cordy found herself a boyfriend.”

 

“That I understand,” Buffy said.

 

Wesley didn’t particularly want to talk about himself, or his past mistakes, anymore. “What will you take with you?”

 

“Enough food for a few days and weapons,” Buffy said. “Other than that, we’ll rough it, I think. We want to travel light.”

 

“And what about Holtz?”

 

Her discomfort was obvious from her expression. “I guess we have three choices: bring him back, leave him there, or kill him.”

 

Wesley was quiet for a moment. “It might be easiest to leave him there.”

 

“If we can, we will,” Buffy replied.

 

Wesley leaned back against the couch, lapsing into comfortable silence.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara hoped they’d worked out the rest of the kinks. It had taken most of the morning, but Willow had helped her with the logistics, as had one of her mother’s spell books. Wesley had still had one of Connor’s pacifiers in his car, and they were going to use that for the locator spell that they had worked into the spell that would open the portal.

 

At least, that was the plan. It could dump Spike and Buffy off right on top of Connor, or it could simply put them in the general vicinity.

 

“Bugger,” Wesley muttered, looking at the clock. “How long until Buffy and Spike get here?”

 

“Buffy should be here in about an hour,” Willow replied. “She had a few errands to run, just in case she doesn’t come back right away.”

 

Tara caught the accusatory look that Willow was leveling at Wesley, and she thought it was misplaced. Buffy was the one who had agreed to this mission, probably because things had been so quiet lately. Although patrolling and college classes kept her busy, Buffy seemed to be ready for a challenge again.

 

“What is it, Wesley?” Tara asked.

 

“Connor will need some things,” he explained. “There’s no telling how long he’ll have gone without proper food, or anything else.”

 

Tara saw his point immediately. She pushed a piece of paper across the table. “Make a list of what you think he’ll need, and we’ll run and pick it up.”

 

He stared at the blank sheet, clearly at a loss. “I don’t know. If time has passed normally, he’d only be a few months old, but otherwise…”

 

“Then he’ll need food, probably cereal,” Tara said practically. “And diapers. Unless he’s a lot older, and in that case, he could share Buffy’s food.”

 

Wesley nodded. “Yes, of course.”

 

To be honest, Tara found Wesley’s concern for the baby rather endearing. She had enjoyed the time spent researching with him. It was good to be a part of the team again, and even better to be a vital part of the team.

 

Wesley finished scribbling out the list. “I think this should do it.”

 

She rose from her seat. “Okay.” Tara had no desire to be left alone with Willow. “I think I’ll go with you. I’d like to pick up something to eat, and Buffy will probably need to eat, too. Willow, did you want anything?”

 

“I’m fine.” Willow’s expression held a reproach, which Tara ignored.

 

It turned out that she was becoming very good at that.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike supposed he should be a little nervous; he and Buffy were traveling to another dimension, where they might, or might not, be able to find a man and an infant, from which they might, or might not, be able to return.

 

And, if Anya was right, long periods of time could pass for them, while no time at all passed in Sunnydale.

 

As far as Spike was concerned, however, this meant that he and Buffy would have an unspecified period of time together, just the two of them. There would be no disapproving friends, no Nibblet to interrupt just when he thought he might be getting somewhere, no demands from their everyday lives.

 

It would just be them, on a mission, and he was looking forward to it.

 

The blood situation could end up being problematic, however. He had no way to keep it cold, so the most he could take was a couple of bags. If he fed before leaving, he could go for a couple of days without eating, but that would be too long for it to be left out.

 

Spike shrugged. He’d gone without food for longer; he’d live. Wrapping the blood bags in a spare shirt to insulate them as much as possible, Spike threw in a couple of stakes and a crossbow before zipping up the duffel bag. He’d carry the ax to prevent the blade from doing damage to either the bag or what he carried.

 

When he arrived at the Magic Box, Buffy was waiting for him. “Hey. Did you bring any first aid supplies?”

 

He shook his head. “No. You?”

 

She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got them.”

 

“You’ll need this, too,” Tara said, handing Buffy a grocery sack. “For the baby, when you find him.”

 

Spike peered over Buffy’s shoulder, looking at the half-dozen jars of baby food, the box of dry cereal, the bottles of water and can of formula, and the stack of diapers. “We really need all that?”

 

“We weren’t sure how old Connor would be now,” Wesley said. “You should be set for a few days.”

 

Spike grimaced. “If it takes longer than that, we might have a problem.”

 

Wesley frowned. “Blood?”

 

“I’m set for a few days,” Spike confirmed. “After that, we’ll just have to hope that the hunting is good.”

 

“Then we’re ready to go,” Buffy said.

 

Spike looked around. “Where’s Dawn?”

 

“In the training room,” Willow said, breaking her silence. Spike had noticed that she wore a sullen expression, and he could only assume that it was because she felt left out. “With Xander and Anya.”

 

Spike shouldered his duffel bag. “Right. Let’s do this, shall we?”

 

“Remember,” Wesley admonished as they all entered the training room. “Your best chance for locating the portal is to return to the location where you arrive. It might not be necessary, but—”

 

“We got it, Wes,” Buffy said with a smile. “Dawn’s blood should cause the portal to open close to where we are, but just in case it doesn’t, go back to where we started.” She looked at her little sister. “You ready for this, Dawnie?”

 

“I’m ready,” she said bravely, hugging Buffy tightly. “Be careful.”

 

Buffy nodded. “I will. Listen to the others, okay?” She turned to Tara, and Spike saw the other woman nod, as a wordless question and answer passed between them. Buffy had told him that she’d asked Tara to look after Dawn if it took them longer than expected to get back.

 

Neither of them had been willing to address what would happen if they didn’t come back.

 

Buffy didn’t say anything to the others, probably because anything she said would sound too much like goodbye, when they were supposed to be returning in a few hours.

 

Spike couldn’t help the grin that formed. It appeared that life was about to get interesting again.


	6. Searching

**“I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout/All the times you told me/You’re so full of doubt/You just can’t let it be/But I know/If you keep comin’ back for more/Then I’ll keep on tryin’/Keep on tryin’/And I feel so satisfied when/I can see you smile/I want to confide in/All that is true, so I’ll/Keep on tryin’.” ~Poco, “Keep on Tryin’”**

 

Buffy hadn’t known what to expect when they went through the portal; she hadn’t been sure what to expect from Tara’s spell. The only time she’d seen a portal to a hell dimension was when Angelus had opened Acathla.

 

This had been different. Other than providing a smear of her blood on the large quartz that Tara had used as the focus for the spell, Dawn hadn’t even needed to be involved. The air had swirled, and the wind had whipped her hair, but there didn’t appear to be any other disturbances.

 

When they were dumped in Quortoth, however, Buffy’s hand immediately went to her weapon. “You know, I could think of better places to take a vacation.”

 

“You’re telling me,” Spike agreed, moving to stand back to back with her as they got their bearings.

 

Buffy could sense that they were being watched, and she had the sneaking suspicion that the gazes were not friendly. The light had a reddish tinge, and she could smell sulfur in the air; it seemed a bit cliché, but all clichés came from somewhere.

 

The tree-like plants and undergrowth were thick, and almost evil looking. Everything seemed threatening, as though survival depended on killing first.

 

“Can you sense them?”

 

“You talking humans or beasts?”

 

“Either.”

 

“Yes to both,” he said tersely. “Think we’re going to have a few problems getting to where they are, though.”

 

Buffy knew immediately that he was talking about Holtz and Connor. “What kind of obstacles are we facing?”

 

“I don’t know, but we may have our hands full just surviving long enough for Tara to open the portal again, let alone getting our hands on that kid.”

 

Spike’s terse words and grim tone told Buffy that they were in a lot of trouble. “Okay.” She adjusted the straps of the backpack she wore. “Let’s just focus on finding him and staying alive. We’ll have to play the rest of it by ear.”

 

“You got it, luv.”

 

Buffy heard something large crashing through the underbrush, and she saw the waving of branches. “Spike!”

 

“I hear it.”

 

They both turned to face the source of the sound, and Buffy saw a large animal come barreling out. Its tusks were long and cruel looking, and it reminded her of a pig—an enormous, hairy, demonic pig.

 

Buffy was ready to stand her ground, but Spike shoved her out of the way, then leapt over it, letting the animal rush past. “Spike!”

 

“Stay out of the way,” he ordered. “This isn’t something you take care of with a stake.”

 

Before she could yell at him, the pig had turned and was running straight for Spike again. This time, he stepped aside at the last possible second, swinging the ax up and around to sever its spinal cord in one, swift blow.

 

Buffy thought that should have taken care of it, but instead the animal merely swayed on its feet and tried to turn to face Spike a third time. He wrenched the ax free and swung again, this time decapitating the beast.

 

Spike met her eyes. “You might not want to watch this.”

 

“Watch what?” Buffy asked, still a little in shock. She was used to facing vampires and demons, but demonic animals were new.

 

“Dunno when I’ll be able to eat next, and it’s bleeding out fast.”

 

“Oh.” Buffy realized that he didn’t _want_ her to watch. “Okay. I can keep watch.” She turned her back, gripping her stake tightly. The sound of eating behind her was a little disturbing; she knew that Spike drank blood, but she was used to him drinking out of a mug or a bag.

 

This was different.

 

She felt him standing next to her. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.” Buffy turned to face him. “It’s what you are.”

 

He swallowed. “Yeah. We’d better get going.”

 

“You lead the way,” she replied, then followed him into the woods.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn sighed. She kept watching the clock to see how much time had passed. The second hand seemed to be moving at a crawl, and she couldn’t help but be worried. She’d overheard Wesley tell Tara that Quortoth was one of the worst hell dimensions—of the known dimensions, anyway.

 

If she lost Buffy and Spike—

 

Well, it wasn’t something she wanted to think about.

 

“Here.” Wesley held out a paper sack.

 

She took it and looked inside, wanting to be sure that she got the right sandwich, and that her fries were intact. Xander had a tendency to steal them. “Thanks.”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“A little worried,” Dawn admitted.

 

He sat down on the couch next to her. “I’m sorry I had to ask your sister for help. I would have gone myself, but—”

 

She shook her head. “It makes sense. Spike and Buffy have a better chance of surviving.”

 

They sat in companionable silence, eating their sandwiches, until Tara came over to join them. “Mind if I sit down?”

 

They both moved over so that Tara could sit between them. “Do you want to open the next portal, Wesley?” she asked.

 

He hesitated, then nodded. “I think I can handle it.”

 

“I can do it, if you can’t,” Willow said from the doorway of the training room.

 

Dawn exchanged a look with Tara. “Let’s let Wes try,” Tara said as diplomatically as possible. “It makes sense to find out whether or not he can do it.”

 

Willow shrugged. “Fine.” She turned to go back into the shop.

 

Dawn leaned over to whisper to Tara, “Why did she stay?”

 

“We might need her help,” Tara said with a stern look. “So be nice.”

 

Dawn glowered. “She almost killed my sister and Spike. I don’t want to be nice.”

 

There was a long pause, probably because neither Wesley nor Tara knew how to reply to that. “She’s still Buffy’s friend,” Tara finally said.

 

“I know. I just can’t forgive her that easily.” Dawn was grateful that the other two didn’t offer platitudes, like “it takes time” or “forgiving someone is hard.” She knew all of that, and she’d had that talk with Buffy. Forgiving Willow was important because she was a friend, and everybody makes mistakes.

 

In a way, Dawn could have forgiven Willow for what happened with Buffy. The nerds had almost killed Tara, and Dawn would have wanted revenge, too. It was after that, when everybody said that she needed to ease off on the magic, and be more careful, when she’d tried to kill Spike—well, Dawn was pretty sure that had been deliberate.

 

Spike and Buffy were getting closer, and Willow and Xander were both pissed off about it. Dawn could see that much for herself.

 

Maybe, after this trip to the hell dimension, things would be different. Dawn knew that Buffy liked Spike; she just didn’t want to admit it. Without anybody else around, though, she might finally be able to.

 

~~~~~

 

“I don’t know why they won’t let me help.”

 

Xander understood exactly why no one wanted Willow to work magic these days. She’d become just a little scary when she wanted something bad enough. The fact that she’d been perfectly willing to take not one life but three just made her scarier.

 

Not that he would have shed a tear if she’d dusted Spike, but even Xander could admit that the vampire had been a lot of help. He had a feeling that it wasn’t a good idea to go around killing allies.

 

On the other hand, if the chip ever stopped working, he’d be first in line with a stake.

 

“You agreed to ease off the magic, Will,” Xander finally said, realizing that she was still waiting for a response. “If it was an emergency, that’s one thing, but it isn’t.”

 

Willow snorted. “Like Wesley’s any good with the magic. You know how worthless he was the last time he was in Sunnydale.”

 

“He’s changed,” Xander replied in a low voice, knowing that the other man was just in the next room, and that the training room door was open. He didn’t know how he felt about Wesley, but he did know that he hadn’t done anything in recent memory to deserve getting picked on.

 

“So have I,” Willow said.

 

Xander sighed. “Give it time. You’ve to admit that they’ve got a good reason to be worried.”

 

“I didn’t actually hurt anybody,” Willow grumbled.

 

Xander frowned. “I saw Spike’s burns. That wasn’t pretty.”

 

“But that was Spike.”

 

“So what?”

 

Anya’s voice came from behind them, and Xander had a feeling that the whole demons versus humans topic was going to come up again.

 

And there was no way he could win, stuck in between his wife and his best friend—although the whole marriage thing pretty much set his priorities.

 

“What do you mean?” Willow asked, sounding honestly bewildered.

 

Anya glared at her. “So what if it’s Spike? He still got hurt. Does that mean you wouldn’t feel bad if one of your spells backfired and hurt me?”

 

“You’re human,” Willow replied.

 

Anya crossed her arms in front of her chest, a sign that she meant business. “Oh? I was a demon for a lot longer, and I can guarantee that I killed a lot more people than Spike did. In addition, I made them suffer, sometimes for quite a long time, and I liked my job. Spike just ate people because that’s what vampires do.”

 

“He’d kill all of us if he didn’t have that chip in his head,” Willow fired back. “He’s _evil_.”

 

Anya raised an eyebrow. “If you think Spike’s evil, you probably should check your dictionary. I could show you real evil.”

 

Xander could smell an argument brewing, and he remembered what had happened when Anya and Willow fought—they’d ended up with a troll, and he’d bonded with Spike.

 

Well, there was one good reason for Wesley to stick around. It would be nice to have another guy in the general vicinity.

 

“Spike isn’t evil?” Willow asked incredulously. “He’s a vampire; they’re the epitome of evil.”

 

Anya raised an eyebrow. “Is that right? Then explain to me why he hasn’t killed any of us yet.”

 

“He’s got the chip in his head.” Willow spoke as though to a very slow child.

 

“So why hasn’t he hired someone to kill us? Or burned down Buffy’s house while she’s sleeping? Or just not helped out when we were about to get eaten?”

 

Anya’s defense of the vampire was going a little overboard now, in Xander’s opinion. “What is this, An? Are you part of Spike’s fan club?”

 

“It’s called demon solidarity,” Anya said. “And I’m tired of you talking about how demons are all evil when you know I was a demon. It hurts my feelings.”

 

That was a clear sign that Xander could easily wind up sleeping on the couch for the next week; Anya wasn’t above doing that just to prove a point. The last time he’d made a comment about disgusting demons, she had, saying that if hated demons that much, he probably didn’t want to have sex with an ex-demon.

 

“Good point,” he said, then looked back at the training room. “You know, I think I’m going to see how they’re doing back there. It’s been pretty quiet.”

 

He beat a hasty retreat, wondering if he was doing the right thing by leaving them alone, and knowing that there wasn’t anyone else to intercede. Tara was the natural peacemaker, but now that she and Willow weren’t together, that was more awkward than anything else.

 

Xander sighed. He just hoped that Spike and Buffy got back soon. Oddly enough, the two of them seemed to provide a buffer.

 

~~~~~

 

“We’ve got to stop.” Spike made the announcement after the third time Buffy stumbled. The light was fading fast, and they needed to get a fire going. Not only would it keep them warm, but it would also likely hold off any more beasts.

 

The good news was that they seemed to be gaining ground on their prey. Spike had picked up the scent, and while the trail wasn’t precisely easy to follow, he was managing.

 

“Do you think they’ve tried opening the portal again?” Buffy asked, slumping wearily on the ground.

 

He shook his head. “No idea. How are you doing for water?”

 

“I’m okay. I’ve still got a few bottles, and I filled up at the last stream. It wasn’t the best, but it hasn’t killed me yet.”

 

Spike shouldered his ax. “I’m going to get wood. We’ve got to get a fire going.”

 

“I’ll help,” Buffy said, clambering to her feet.

 

Spike shook his head. “Sit, luv. You’re worn out.”

 

“I’m okay,” she insisted. “Besides, I think it’s probably a good idea to stick together.”

 

“That’s true enough.”

 

He made sure they didn’t go too far from the small clearing where they’d elected to make camp. There wasn’t any water nearby, but there was so little water in this dimension that he didn’t think they’d necessarily find a better spot.

 

Spike had marked their trail along the way, although he was hoping that they wouldn’t have to make the trek back. On the other hand, without knowing how much time had passed in Sunnydale, it was hard to tell how long they’d be here before the first portal would open.

 

They gathered the wood together, in near silence, except for a few muttered directions here and there. Once they’d collected a large enough pile, Spike went about building a bonfire, getting it lit before the light had disappeared completely.

 

He half expected Buffy to sit on the other side of the fire, but instead she sat down right next to him, so close he could feel the heat radiating from her body. “I can take the first watch,” he offered.

 

“Okay.” She looked rueful. “I must be getting old. Normally, I’d be able to go all night.”

 

“No point,” Spike replied. “Here.” He stripped off his coat, holding it out to her. “Might make you more comfortable.”

 

She stared at him, not moving to take it. “Your coat?”

 

“If you don’t want it—”

 

“No!” Buffy took it out of his hand, then did something he’d never expected: she kissed him. “Thank you.”

 

Spike blinked. “Yeah. No problem.” He watched as she pulled his coat on, drawing it around her. He decided that if she couldn’t fall asleep, he’d offer himself up as a pillow. That might be stepping over the line, but her kiss had emboldened him.

 

After a minute or two, her voice broke the silence. “Spike?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Do you think we’re going to find him?”

 

“Tomorrow,” he promised. “We’re close, I can tell you that much.”

 

Buffy breathed out a long sigh. “Good.”

 

“Do you still love him?” Spike asked, needing to know, wanting to know why she was doing this. They never talked about their exes—not Drusilla, not Riley, not Angel, and he’d never told her about Cecily.

 

“Who?”

 

“You know who.”

 

“Do you still love Drusilla?”

 

He was quiet for a long time, trying to figure out how he should respond. He didn’t love her, but then again, he did. “Sometimes.” Then he added, “There are memories I love.”

 

“That’s pretty much how I feel,” Buffy said quietly. “He wasn’t real, though.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“What I imagined him to be, and what he was—they’re two totally different things.”

 

Spike looked into the flames and thought of the women he’d loved. “Isn’t that the way it always is?”

 

“Do you think that you never really know the people you love?”

 

“No, just that it’s easy to see only what you want to. Real love, the kind that lasts, sees a person as they are, and doesn’t mind. Like the way I know Dawn is a brat, but I love her anyway.” Spike knew he was going out on a limb; he’d never admitted that much out loud before. This night felt unreal, though.

 

It was the first night they’d spent together; he wondered if Buffy had thought about that fact.

 

“Was Drusilla the first person you loved?”

 

Spike could hardly believe that Buffy was actually admitting that vampires might love out loud; it was quite the breakthrough. “Yeah. Real love.”

 

“Who was the first person you thought you loved?”

 

“Cecily.”

 

“Who was she?”

 

“Just a girl I knew before I got turned,” Spike said.

 

“Did she like you back?”

 

He hesitated, wondering if he should lie. “No.”

 

“What were you like back then?”

 

He eyed her. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

 

“I can’t sleep.”

 

“You haven’t tried.”

 

“You’re changing the subject.”

 

“Maybe I am.”

 

He felt her hand slip into his. “Wake me up when it’s my turn to keep watch.”

 

“Sure thing, Slayer.”

 

Spike wasn’t sure he would—not when she fell asleep with her hand in his.


	7. Home Again

**“I'll be fine./I'll be waiting patiently,/'til you see the signs/and come running to my open arms./Will you realize?/Do we have to wait ‘til our worlds collide?/Open up your eyes./You carry back the time./Don't say you want me./Don't say you need me./Don't say you love me,/It's understood./Don't say you're happy,/happy without me./I know you can't be,/'cause it's no good.” ~Chevelle, “It’s No Good”**

 

Wesley was beginning to get worried. They had opened two portals now with no success. It was impossible to tell where in Quortoth the door was opening, and therefore impossible to tell if it was close to Spike and Buffy.

 

If he was wrong about this, too—if he hurt more people through his ineptitude—

 

“They’ll be fine,” Tara said quietly, bringing him a cup of tea.

 

Wesley thanked her with a smile. “You should try to sleep.”

 

“So should you.”

 

They had already sent Dawn home with Xander and Anya, with promises to call them as soon as there had been a change. Willow had finally gone home an hour before, realizing that they both had the magic well under control.

 

“I can’t.”

 

“I know.”

 

Wesley stared down into the pale liquid. “What is this?”

 

“It’s herbal,” she replied. “It’s supposed to refresh the mind.”

 

The taste was slightly astringent, but not unpleasant for all of that. It was certainly a refreshing taste, although not something he usually drank. “Do you think we should continue to open the portal every two hours?” he asked.

 

“At least for the next day,” Tara said. “After that, we could probably space it out more.”

 

“I can’t help but wonder if I’ve done the right thing,” Wesley murmured.

 

Tara put a hand on his wrist. “You’re trying. I think that’s all you can do.”

 

“The others didn’t seem to agree.”

 

Tara was silent for a moment. “What was the last thing you had to forgive them for?”

 

Wesley frowned, unsure of where she was going with that question. “Angel firing all of us, among other things. We let him back in.”

 

“But it took time.”

 

“Yes, but we allowed him the opportunity.” It seemed terribly unfair to Wesley, that although Angel had screwed up so badly, they had given him a chance to make things right. He had been out in the cold without that option.

 

Tara glanced over at him. “You could stay.”

 

“What would I do?” he asked idly.

 

She smiled. “Anything you want to. It’s not like you’ve got a job to go back to, right?”

 

“That’s true enough.”

 

“What did you do in L.A.?” she asked. “Besides fight demons, I mean.”

 

“I was a private investigator,” Wesley replied, beginning to get a glimmer of an idea. “I still have my license, in fact.”

 

“You could do that here,” Tara pointed out. “Plus, I don’t know, collections agent, or something. Anything, really.”

 

“What would you like to do when you grow up?” Wesley asked, suddenly curious. He knew next to nothing about the woman sitting next to him, even though they were partners in this endeavor.

 

She thought about it for a moment. “I want to help people. I just don’t know how yet.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll be very successful at it.”

 

Tara smiled shyly, and Wesley thought that staying in Sunnydale might be an option after all.

 

~~~~~

 

“This is it,” Spike said in a low voice.

 

Buffy looked at the clearing; it appeared as though someone had been there for a while, long enough to make themselves at home. “Do you think we’re too late?”

 

“Long as he’s still alive, we’re not too late.”

 

The sun was beginning to drop; Spike had been right about finding Holtz the next day, but they’d had to detour around a swamp, which had cost them some time. “Look!”

 

A man came out of the cave at one side of the clearing, followed by a toddler. “How old do you think he is now?” Spike whispered.

 

“Two?” Buffy guessed. “If that.”

 

She watched as the man turned. They could hear his words across the clearing. “Stephen! Get back inside!” His tone was sharp, and he followed his reprimand with a slap to the child’s face. The blow knocked the baby down, but he didn’t cry. Instead, he rose and obediently went back inside.

 

“Bloody hell. He’s not gentle with the tyke, is he?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy was taken aback by the anger in his eyes. She hadn’t expected Spike to show much concern for Angel’s son. “How are we going to do this? It’s starting to get dark.”

 

Spike shook his head. “Far as I can see, we’ve got two choices. We can move off a ways, where the bastard won’t smell the smoke, and wait until morning. Or, we can move in now, incapacitate him, and stay the night in the cave.”

 

“Do you think we’re going to have to go back to where we came in?”

 

“I’d bet on it,” Spike replied. “I haven’t seen any other portals.”

 

Buffy nodded slowly. “I think we go in tonight.”

 

“How are we doing this?”

 

He was asking about how they were going to handle Holtz, and it was a fair question. Buffy didn’t want to kill him; he was human, even if he wasn’t a very nice one. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure how badly Connor would take it if they kept him tied up in the cave all night.

 

“What do you think would happen if we left him outside all night?” she finally asked.

 

“He’d be dead by morning.” Spike looked at her in the eyes. “If you take him out, I’ll take care of him.”

 

Buffy chewed her lip, considering their options. She didn’t like any of them. “What if we pretended to be friends?” she suggested. “He wouldn’t have to know that you’re a vampire. We could tell him that we got sent here by accident.”

 

“He didn’t live this long by being stupid,” Spike objected. “He’d spot me for a vampire right quick, and he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot both of us.”

 

Buffy really didn’t want to make this decision, but she’d become a little more pragmatic over the years. They couldn’t bring Holtz back with them; Wesley had told them what he’d done to enable himself to track Angel across the centuries. Leaving him here alive was also problematic; there was still the possibility that he would find a way back to L.A. and would do the same thing all over again.

 

And any man who would kidnap a child and order someone’s throat cut probably didn’t deserve a lot of consideration.

 

Holtz was re-entering the clearing, and Buffy knew they didn’t have time for her to think it over any further. “Okay. I take him out, and you make sure he can’t get back to the camp.”

 

“Knock him out good,” Spike warned. “Otherwise, we could have our hands full before morning. Give me a minute, then make your move.”

 

He took off, crashing through the underbrush, making as much noise as possible. Holtz immediately put an arrow to his bowstring, moving away from the mouth of the cave. Spike kept crashing, leading the man away from the cave and their true quarry.

 

She began making her way through the brush, trying not to make any noise. Buffy picked up a rock from the ground as she got closer and then, as soon as she was in the clear, she began to run. Holtz turned at the last possible second, and he might have been able to get a shot off, even at close range, but Spike hit him from behind. He howled with pain the next moment, but Buffy ignored him to follow the blow with one of her own, rock in hand.

 

Holtz collapsed like a ton of bricks, and Buffy swallowed. Spike was still clutching his head, so she was the one who had to check to make sure he wasn’t dead.

 

His pulse was there, but it was weak, and Buffy knew that he probably wouldn’t make it without medical attention—which he wasn’t going to get.

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Spike said quietly, his voice roughened by pain.

 

She nodded tersely. “Thanks. For stepping in.”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

Buffy turned back to the cave, not wanting to watch Spike cart the body off. She approached the opening warily, knowing that the little boy would probably be frightened by the sight of strangers. She hoped that he hadn’t seen or heard the altercation, but that was probably too much to ask for.

 

“Hello? Connor?” She entered the cave, pausing to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light. “It’s okay; I won’t hurt you. I’m a friend of your dad’s.”

 

She could just make out the baby crouched in a corner of the cave, looking at her with wide, blue eyes, obscured slightly by dark blond hair. He was silent, and Buffy wondered how on earth she was going to get through to him. She didn’t have that much experience with small children, and this had to be a traumatic experience. To be snatched from his father, then taken from the only parent he could remember—Buffy could only hope that he didn’t remember any of this when he grew up.

 

“I brought something for you,” she said, crouching down so that she was at eye level. Slowly, so as not to startle the boy, she pulled off her backpack and reached inside. He was probably too old for most of the baby food she’d brought, but he could still eat it. Her hand found the plush toy Tara had included; the teddy bear was bright blue, and very soft.

 

Buffy held the stuffed animal out, wondering if he’d respond. After a few moments, he moved toward her slightly. When she maintained her position, Connor took a few more steps towards her. Although she was certain he wasn’t more than two years old, he moved with the grace of a much older child.

 

Of course, the fact that both of his parents were vampires probably had something to do with that.

 

Connor closed the distance between them, his eyes fixed solemnly on her face. When he didn’t reach out for the animal, Buffy tickled him with it on his bare stomach. The unfamiliar sensation startled a giggle out of him, but he backed off a second later, fear entering his eyes.

 

“It’s okay,” Buffy said gently. “I promise. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”

 

He looked toward the mouth of the cave as Spike entered. Buffy opened her mouth to tell him to move slowly, but he dropped to his knees immediately. “Hey there, moppet,” Spike said. “Got anything to say to your Uncle Spike?”

 

Buffy blinked as she realized that technically Spike and Connor were probably related—in some really, really weird way. “I don’t think he even knows how to laugh, Spike,” she said quietly.

 

“Doesn’t surprise me,” he said, keeping his tone pleasant. “Holtz didn’t strike me as the fun type.”

 

“Are we spending the night here?”

 

“Think we’d better. It’s going to take us at least a day to make it back to the portal site.” Spike moved forward a little bit, coming to sit next to her. “You know, why don’t you pull out the food. The mite’s probably hungry.”

 

Buffy pulled the box of animal crackers out of her backpack and opened them, popping one in her mouth. “Here,” she said, holding one out to Spike.

 

“No, thanks.”

 

“It’s not for you, it’s for him,” Buffy replied in a low voice. “If he sees us both eating them, he may be more willing to do the same.”

 

Spike shrugged and took it. “Tastes like cardboard,” he complained.

 

“Not to me,” she said. “And not to Connor.” She held out a cracker to the little boy, the teddy bear in her lap. “Come on, Connor. Are you hungry?”

 

He didn’t reply, but he did approach them with a grubby hand held out. When Buffy gave him the cracker, Connor took a cautious bite, and his eyes lit up. He finished the cracker, then eyed the box next to Buffy hopefully, although he made no moves toward it.

 

“Do you want another cracker?” she asked, reaching into the box again.

 

Connor nodded, taking yet another step. He wore nothing but a crude loincloth, and he was filthy, although Buffy knew she wasn’t doing much better. “Do you want the bear?”

 

She held out both the bear and the cracker, and after a moment’s indecision, Connor seized both, clutching the stuffed animal to his chest and crunching the cracker with glee.

 

“How long do you think we have before he starts freaking out about Holtz?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know. Hopefully, he’ll go to sleep, and we can get him out of here quickly tomorrow.”

 

“Tara said she put something in the bag that would help him sleep,” Spike said.

 

Buffy dug through the pack, finding a small bottle. The neatly written instructions on the side indicated that she should use four drops every eight hours. “I feel bad drugging him.”

 

“Might not have a choice tomorrow,” Spike pointed out. “But that’s tomorrow. I’ll take first watch again.” He rose slowly. “We’ll need more wood to keep the fire going tonight.”

 

Buffy nodded, then handed Connor another cracker. “What do you think, buddy? Can you keep me company?”

 

Connor was still focused on the latest cracker; Buffy hoped that was all she needed to keep him busy.

 

~~~~~

 

It was Wesley’s turn to open the portal. He hated continually asking Dawn to shed her blood, no matter how small the amount. The teen needed sleep, no doubt about it, but they couldn’t do without her. This was the sixth portal they’d opened, and after this, they would have to start leaving longer intervals.

 

Wesley ignored the eyes of the others as best he could as he spoke the words of the spell over the blood-smeared quartz. Once again, he could feel the wind hit his face, smell the sulfur in the air, all familiar by now. They had learned over the course of the last half-day that the portal could only be kept open for five minutes at a time.

 

His heart sunk as three minutes passed with no sign of Buffy or Spike, and Wesley began to fear that they had lost the two of them. Suddenly, a black clad figure crashed through the portal, dropping and rolling on the ground, and Buffy wasn’t far behind.

 

“Buffy!” Dawn called from the side of the training room. “Are you okay?”

 

Wesley quickly closed the portal to prevent anything else from coming through. He heard Buffy respond, “I’m fine, Dawnie. Hungry, but okay. Spike? Is Connor—”

 

“Still sleeping,” Spike replied, standing up with the little boy in his arms. Wesley wouldn’t have recognized the child; he’d aged by a couple of years. All three were filthy, and both Buffy and Spike appeared exhausted.

 

“How is he?” Wesley asked anxiously.

 

Buffy exchanged a look with Spike. “He’s fine. He’ll cry for Holtz occasionally, but we just keep telling him that we’re taking him back to his dad.”

 

“He won’t remember Angel,” Wesley said.

 

“With any luck, he won’t remember Holtz either,” Spike replied. “Bastard.”

 

Wesley frowned. “What did you do with him?”

 

“We left him there,” Buffy said. “I don’t think you’ll be seeing him again.”

 

Dawn started to usher both Spike and Buffy towards the couch. “Sit. I’ll let Anya know to call for pizza. I put some blood in the fridge here for Spike.”

 

Wesley didn’t want to take his eyes off of Connor. “What happened? We weren’t sure what to think when you didn’t come back right away.”

 

“Is Tara alright?” Buffy asked, ignoring his question. “How many times did you have to open the portal?”

 

“She’s sleeping,” Wesley replied. “And this was number six.”

 

Buffy sighed. “I was afraid it had been that long. We were there for five days.”

 

“I see.” He’d suspected that they’d been there for longer than the 12 or so hours they’d been opening portals, if only from their general appearance. “Did everything go as planned?”

 

“Pretty much,” Buffy replied. “We had to go back to the original location, like we’d suspected might happen. Other than that, Spike sniffed out Holtz and Connor, and we managed okay.”

 

“But he’s been crying for Holtz?” Wesley asked.

 

Spike shrugged. “A bit, but not much. I get the feeling that he’s been trained not to cry.”

 

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Wesley said.

 

“I didn’t either.” Buffy looked at Connor, who was still in Spike’s arms. “He was a really good sport, though, considering everything he’s been through.”

 

Wesley nodded, hardly knowing how to feel. Connor was back, and safe, and while he was older than he’d been, it was unlikely that he would ever remember that Holtz had been his foster father.

 

Wesley had accomplished his goal, but it still didn’t feel quite right.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara had come to Buffy’s house as soon as she had called. “I’m not sure what to do now,” Buffy had admitted. “I did the rescue thing, but I don’t know anything about taking care of a baby.”

 

Tara had experience, not just from her large extended family, but also her babysitting jobs. It was one of the few things her father had encouraged her to do, probably because he thought that taking care of children was within a woman’s purview.

 

Looking back, Tara was grateful for her father’s sexism, at least in that instance. It had allowed her to get enough money together to travel to UC Sunnydale, and for the application fees and standardized tests.

 

“Gonna get you!”

 

Tara stopped dead in the doorway to the living room. Spike had caught the baby around the waist, and he turned Connor upside down and hung him by his ankles. Far from being frightened, Connor was shrieking and giggling madly as Dawn joined in tickling his stomach.

 

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Buffy asked from behind her in a whisper.

 

Tara looked at her. “What is?”

 

“Spike with Connor.”

 

Tara nodded. “He’s really good with him.”

 

“He really is.” Buffy smiled. “We couldn’t really play much in Quortoth because it was too dangerous; we couldn’t afford to draw attention to ourselves.”

 

“You guys seem to be doing fine,” Tara said.

 

Buffy shook her head. “Every time Connor stops for a minute, he starts crying for Holtz. I’m not sure what to do.”

 

“The only thing you can do,” Tara replied. “Hold him and tell him that it will be okay.” She wrinkled her nose. “Connor needs a bath, though.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Tell me about it. Spike said he’d keep an eye on him while I got cleaned up.”

 

Tara noticed that Buffy’s hair was still wet. “I can help you out, but then I really need to try and catch up on my sleep.”

 

Buffy nodded and smiled at her. “Thank you so much for doing this, Tara. I know you didn’t have to.”

 

She looked at the baby. Dawn was making his teddy bear talk, telling him a silly little story while Spike looked on. “No. I think I did.”


	8. Taking a Chance

**“Go now go while you can/From the love that's brought you down/Things will soon come around I swear /And they'll be sorry they let you down/Go now go while you can/From the life that's brought you down/Things will soon come around I swear/And you'll have it all figured out/Never really worry for a bit /Sometimes it feels worse then it really is/You may always be changing your mind /Just push hard for the finish line.” ~Rosie Thomas, “Finish Line”**

 

Spike watched as Buffy tucked Connor into the small pallet she’d set up for him in her room. She had decided that he would probably feel safer if he were close to one of them, and Spike was going back to his crypt now that he’d cleaned up.

 

The little boy spotted him standing by the door and held out his arms. “Pike!”

 

Buffy smirked. “I think he’s asking for you, Pike.”

 

“It’s not his fault that he can’t quite say it,” Spike replied, giving her a dirty look. “The same can’t be said for you.”

 

She just smiled and moved to one side so that Spike could give Connor a hug. Spike drew the line at kisses; he’d shown himself to be enough of a softie while they were in Quortoth. There hadn’t been another choice because one of them had to carry the child, and Connor had seemed to prefer him.

 

Spike had comforted himself with the knowledge that when Angel found out that his kid actually liked him, he’d likely blow a gasket. That, and the fact that Buffy was unlikely to tell anyone.

 

Connor settled down after that, and Spike headed for the stairs. “Where are you going?” Buffy called softly.

 

Knowing that Wesley was asleep in the guest room, with Dawn in her bedroom, Spike kept his own voice down. “I’m going back to the crypt.”

 

“Oh.” Buffy hesitated, then took his arm and pulled him down the stairs. “You want to go?”

 

Spike frowned. “You want me to stay?”

 

“Well, I just thought you might want to stay tonight, since it’s so close to sunrise,” she said. “But I know you’ve been gone for days, and you probably—”

 

“No!” Spike said quickly, not wanting to pass up his chance to spend the night—or day. “No, it’d be nice to know I’ve got a safe place to kip.”

 

Buffy’s expression was full of concern. “Is it still bad, Spike?”

 

He shrugged, hating to be a burden, or for Buffy to think him unable to take care of himself. “Not so bad, but I sleep lightly.”

 

“I’d let you take the floor in my room, but since Connor is there, maybe the basement?” she suggested. “We’ve got a cot, and it’s dark down there.”

 

“Sounds good,” he replied.

 

She smiled, ducking her head. “I’ll just—I’ll get it set up then.”

 

“We never talked about that kiss,” Spike said, following her to the basement. “Didn’t want to say anything while we were in Quortoth, since we had our hands full, but we’re back now.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “And you said we’d have that conversation when it was all over.”

 

“I did, didn’t I?” Buffy murmured, unfolding the cot and looking around. “I know that box was down here somewhere.”

 

“Buffy—”

 

“I thought Quortoth would make it easier,” she confessed, still not looking at him. Instead, she rooted around in the various boxes.

 

“Didn’t it?”

 

“In a way.” She stopped. “You, with Connor, it wasn’t an act, was it?”

 

Spike knew that this was no time to let pride get in the way of the truth. “No, it wasn’t.”

 

“I didn’t think so. You’ve always been good with Dawn.”

 

At least she had admitted it now, Spike thought, but he didn’t know where she was going with this. “You know how I feel about the Bit.”

 

“I do.” Buffy turned to face him fully. “I loved Angel, and I had to send him to hell. I know that people do bad things, but you can understand why I’d hesitate to trust a vampire.”

 

“Yeah, I do, luv.” He took a cautious step closer to her. “I’d never hurt you. I’ve done a lot of things, but I’ve—” Spike stopped. He’d been about to say that he’d never hurt someone he loved, but that wasn’t true, not when he thought of his mother, even though he’d had the best of intentions.

 

Buffy smiled wistfully. “You don’t hurt the people you love?”

 

“I try not to.”

 

“That’s all I can ask, I guess.” She took a deep breath. “It’s a good thing that you don’t have a soul to lose. It’s just the chip I have to worry about.”

 

“No, you don’t.” Spike moved closer until there were only inches between them. “This chip doesn’t do anything for me, Buffy. Maybe it makes it easier to do the right thing, but it doesn’t force me to.”

 

“No, it doesn’t.” Her gaze turned calculating, and she reached up to pull his head down.

 

Spike closed his eyes, hardly able to believe it. Her mouth was on his, her kiss a gentle demand. After a moment, that changed, and it turned needy. Buffy’s hands gripped his shoulders; his were on her waist. Spike hesitated to go further, wanting her to be sure, not wanting to wake up if this was a dream.

 

He might have believed that he’d died and gone to heaven if he didn’t know there was no such thing for the likes of him.

 

She led him over to the cot, never pulling her mouth from his. It was so easy, and felt so right that Spike couldn’t believe that they had never done this before.

 

The heavy make out sessions under Willow’s spell didn’t count—not after he’d had the real thing. Not when he knew that Buffy wanted this, and she wouldn’t be ignoring him after all this was over.

 

At least, he hoped not.

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley awoke to the sounds of crying. He was out of bed and in Buffy’s room without even thinking about it. Connor was sitting up in his nest of blankets, sniffling and trying to muffle his cries. He was so young to be trying not to cry, and Wesley knew that was Holtz’s doing from what Buffy had said.

 

And his doing. He bore the blame for allowing Holtz to take the boy in the first place.

 

Wesley scooped Connor up in his arms, barely noticing that Buffy was nowhere to be seen. He cradled the boy close, gratified when he seemed to calm. He hummed the same lullaby he’d used so long ago, the one that had given him away to Lorne.

 

“Wes?” Buffy stood in the doorway, looking a little sheepish. Her hair was slightly mussed, and her lips looked swollen. “Spike said he thought he heard Connor crying.”

 

“I think he was just scared,” Wesley replied. Connor’s arms had loosened their death grip around his neck, and Wesley stroked his back soothingly. “I was close by.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Good. Thank you.” She hesitated. “I’ll call Angel tomorrow, unless you want to.”

 

Wesley shook his head. “No, you should be the one to tell him. You were the one to rescue him.”

 

“We wouldn’t have gone except for you,” Buffy reminded him gently. She sat down on her bed, and Wesley settled next to her. “I’m sure Angel will appreciate what you’ve done.”

 

“Perhaps he won’t be quite as inclined to kill me,” Wesley agreed.

 

Buffy let out a breath. “Have you thought about staying here?”

 

“I have,” he admitted. “I don’t know.”

 

“He might need you.”

 

“I doubt it.”

 

Buffy gave him a look that was full of compassion. “This really wasn’t your fault, Wesley.”

 

“Yes, it was,” he insisted, fully willing to accept his own role in the matter. “If I had only—”

 

“Done something differently?” Buffy suggested. “Been a little faster or a little smarter or any of those things you think of in the middle of the night?”

 

“You, too?”

 

“I’m the Slayer,” she reminded him. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about how if I’d just been better, someone wouldn’t have died.”

 

“You can’t focus on those things, Buffy,” Wesley replied, knowing that such regrets would do her no good.

 

She raised an eyebrow. “But you can?”

 

He chuckled ruefully. “Point taken.”

 

“I’ll talk to him, Wes,” Buffy said softly. “You never know. Once he’s got Connor back, he might find it easier to forgive you.”

 

Wesley wasn’t sure of that.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn knew that something was up as she kept an eye on Connor while he ate his breakfast, picking up Cheerios with a chubby fist and shoving them into his mouth. The blue teddy bear, already the worse for wear, was firmly clamped under one arm. He was too adorable, but Dawn found her sister’s behavior a little more interesting.

 

Buffy alternated between cooing at Connor and keeping an eye on the basement door. That would have been odd enough—since there was nothing especially fascinating about it—but every time she glanced that direction, she flushed slightly.

 

“Is Spike coming back over today?” Dawn asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

 

Buffy started guiltily. “Oh, well, he’s still here.”

 

She perked up at that news. “Did he stay?”

 

“It was close to sunrise before he was ready to leave,” Buffy replied, sounding just a little defensive. “So, I fixed the cot in the basement for him.”

 

Dawn smirked. “I’m sure he appreciated that.”

 

The flush that spread across Buffy’s cheeks told Dawn that there had been a little more than simple gratitude exchanged. “Yeah, well, he was nice enough to watch my back. I owed him that much anyway.”

 

Dawn’s eyes went wide. “Did something happen between you and Spike?” When Buffy busied herself at the sink, she grinned. “Something _did_ happen! In Quortoth?”

 

“We were too busy surviving for anything to happen,” Buffy replied.

 

Dawn let out a laugh. “Last night, then.”

 

“It’s not a big deal, Dawnie.”

 

She frowned. “I’ll bet that’s not what Spike said.”

 

“We’re friends,” Buffy said.

 

“And more?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The word was pulled out of her reluctantly, and Dawn knew that her sister was going through her usual routine. “It’s not the end of the world, Buffy.”

 

“I know.” She sighed. “I can’t pretend that it’s going to be easy, though.”

 

Dawn frowned. “How hard can it be?”

 

Buffy gave her sister a look that said she was being stupid. “Hello? Have you met Xander and Willow?”

 

Dawn winced. “Oh, yeah.”

 

“Yeah. And when Giles finds out, he’s going to flip his lid, too.”

 

The younger girl shrugged. “But he’s in England, and you know that Tara and Anya will back you. Wesley, too, probably, since you helped him out.”

 

Buffy shrugged and turned back to Connor, who was banging his fist on the table. “Hey, big guy. Do you want something to bang with?” She grabbed a wooden spoon and handed it to him. Connor started using it to enthusiastically make noise.

 

“You’ve got me, too, Buffy,” Dawn reminded her softly. “It’s going to be okay.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I know, but I don’t know that all of my friendships are going to survive this one.”

 

There was nothing that Dawn could say to that, because Buffy was likely right. Willow and Xander had both been unreasonable about Spike. “Have you called Angel yet?”

 

“You know I haven’t,” Buffy said evenly.

 

Dawn leaned against the counter. “How come?”

 

“Because I’m not exactly looking forward to talking to him.” Buffy shrugged. “We’re not best friends.”

 

“And when he finds out that you went to Quortoth with Spike?”

 

“He’ll probably do some flipping of his own lid.”

 

Dawn grabbed the phone and handed it to her. “Get it over with,” she advised. “He’ll want to know that Connor is safe.”

 

Buffy looked guilty. “I know. I should have called him as soon as we got back.”

 

“There’s no time like the present.” She glanced up the stairs. “I think Wesley is out of the shower, so I’ll take mine now. Good luck.”

 

Dawn knew that Buffy was going to need it.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike stood at the door, slumped against the wall. Their make out session the night before had been interrupted by Connor’s cries, which he had been able to hear even in the basement. Now, he’d been able to hear every word of her conversation with Dawn. Although he’d been gratified to hear Buffy tell her sister that they were more than friends, he hadn’t been thrilled to be reminded of the Scoobies’ likely reactions.

 

She was right; this was going to be hard. No matter how right it felt, they would have to face Willow and Xander at some point, and they’d have to deal with Giles if he came back across the pond.

 

He could hear Connor banging on the table, and Buffy’s voice, presumably as she talked on the phone. “Is Angel there?”

 

If he concentrated and shut out the noise that Connor was making, he could just hear the voice on the other end of the line. “Is this Buffy?”

 

“Yes, Cordelia, it’s Buffy. I need to talk to Angel; it’s important.”

 

“He’s not really up to talking right now,” Cordelia replied. “There’s been a lot going on lately, and—”

 

“And I’ve got some really good news that he’ll want to hear, but I’m not telling anyone else. Now pass the phone over.”

 

Spike could hear Cordelia’s huff. “Fine. Let me get him.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

There was a long pause and then he could hear Angel’s voice. “What is it, Buffy?” The older vampire sounded infinitely tired.

 

“Angel, I’ve got Connor.”

 

Spike’s eyebrows went up. He hadn’t expected Buffy to break the news so abruptly.

 

“Wha—what?”

 

“Wesley came here to ask for my help getting Connor back,” she said. “He told me everything. I—we went to Quortoth, and we got him back for you. He’s older, but he’s here, and he’s healthy.”

 

“You’re lying,” Angel said flatly. “You have to be.”

 

Spike heard Buffy sigh. “Connor, can you say something for your dad?”

 

“Pike!” the boy yelled gleefully.

 

Spike winced. It looked like his cover had been blown. He opened the door and winked at the boy. Buffy’s panicked expression told him that she was wondering how long he’d been standing there. Her attention was taken up by Angel on the other end, however.

 

“I—that was him?”

 

“That was him,” Buffy confirmed. “Like I said, he’s doing really well, considering everything he’s been through.”

 

“Holtz?” Angel asked, sounding worried.

 

“Dead. We took care of him.”

 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Angel promised. “I’ll have to wait until the sun goes down at least a little more.”

 

“We’ll be here,” Buffy promised. “We’re taking good care of him, Angel.”

 

“Thanks.” There was a pause, and he added, “Is Wes still there?”

 

Buffy shared a look with Spike. “Yeah, he is. He was a big help getting the portal open and closed again.”

 

“Tell him I want to see him,” Angel said.

 

“I’ll let him know.” Spike could see her hesitate. “I don’t like bloodstains on my carpet.”

 

“I’ll play nice,” he promised, then hung up.

 

“Was that Angel?” Wesley stood in the doorway, his arms crossed defensively over his chest.

 

Buffy nodded. “He’s going to be here tonight. He wants to talk to you.”

 

Wesley nodded stiffly. “Yes, of course.”

 

Spike glanced over at him. “Buffy already told him she didn’t want blood on her carpets, mate.” He was feeling a lot more kindly towards the man now that Buffy had made her affections clear.

 

Wesley smiled faintly. “I appreciate that.”

 

“No biggie,” Buffy replied. “You know how hard it is to get rid of bloodstains.”

 

“I do.” His eyes focused on Connor. “He seems to be doing well this morning.”

 

“Nightmares are all forgotten,” Buffy replied. “It’s the great thing about being a kid.”

 

“It would be.” Wesley glanced behind him. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll head over to the Magic Box. There are a few things I wanted to pick up, and a few books I’d like another look at.”

 

“Sure,” Buffy replied. “You’re not tied here.”

 

He looked at Connor again, ill concealed longing in his eyes. “No, I suppose not. I’ll see you later.”

 

“That was interesting,” Spike observed after Wesley had gone.

 

Buffy frowned. “Yeah. Are you hungry?” she asked, changing the subject. “There’s still blood in the fridge.”

 

“I could eat,” Spike replied, then stepped close to her. “But I’m hungrier for something else right now.”

 

An unwilling smile curved her lips. “Connor is sitting right there.”

 

“He won’t remember it.”

 

“And Dawn’s going to be down any minute,” she reminded him.

 

Spike smirked. “No, she won’t. If she was taking a shower, it’ll be an hour anyway.”

 

“True.” Buffy was wavering; he could sense it.

 

When he leaned in for a kiss, however, he heard Connor’s imperious, “Pike!”

 

She laughed. “Looks like we got stuck with babysitting him a while longer.”

 

“I don’t mind,” he admitted, swinging Connor down from the chair he’d been perched on. “Be a bit sorry to see him go, to tell the truth.”

 

“You are a softie,” she accused.

 

He shook his head. “I’m a bad, rude man, and don’t you forget it.”

 

From her laughter, Spike got the sense that she didn’t believe him.

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley had no idea what Angel wanted to say to him. Would he thank him? Or would he simply say that nothing had changed, and he still wasn’t welcome at the hotel? His thoughts were so caught up in anticipation—or dread, rather—of that night’s meeting that he wasn’t watching where he was going.

 

“Oh!”

 

He automatically reached out to steady Tara, and the books in her arms were sent tumbling to the ground. “Bloody hell. I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I wasn’t watching either.”

 

“My mind was elsewhere,” Wesley confessed as he helped her gather the books again.

 

Her expression was sympathetic. “Buffy called Angel, huh?”

 

“Yes. Apparently, he wants to talk to me.”

 

“Uh oh.” Tara seemed to understand immediately what that meant. “Did he say what he wanted?”

 

Wesley shook his head. “No.”

 

“What will you do?”

 

“I have no idea.” He sighed. “I imagine it will greatly depend on what he has to say.”

 

“So, what are you doing here?” Tara asked.

 

Wesley shrugged. “There were a few books I wanted another chance to look at, just in case—”

 

“In case you don’t get another chance?” she filled in when he stopped.

 

“Something like that. And you?”

 

She shrugged. “I just wanted to return a few books I borrowed.”

 

“Oh, of course.” Wesley held the door open for her, and their eyes met. Something passed between them in that moment, although he wasn’t sure what it was. In any case, there was a connection made that would not be broken lightly.


	9. Father Issues

**“Let's talk and we'll fill the air/The imagery that lasts forever/So this is love and that's a lovely thought/You have to care for it to keep it together/And if you fall, will you get up/Stuck in a dream, will you wake up/And if you've found love will you hold on to it/And if it's cold, will you stay warm/Drift too far, will you swim towards the shore/And if you've found love will you hold on to it?” ~Azure Ray, “If You Fall”**

 

Buffy heard the sound of car wheels and knew that Angel had arrived. She hoped he’d come alone, but that was probably too much to ask. Sure enough, when he got out of the vehicle, Cordelia was right behind him, followed closely by two people she didn’t recognize.

 

“Where is he?” Angel demanded as she opened the door.

 

Buffy smiled, more than a touch of sarcasm in her expression. “Hi, Angel. Come in. It’s nice to see you, too. And you’re welcome. I was happy to risk my life to save your son.”

 

He paused inside the door. “Buffy—”

 

“He’s right here,” Dawn said from the living room, Connor in her arms. “Geez. What did you ever see in this guy, Buffy?”

 

“Connor.” Angel had eyes only for the baby. “He’s so big.”

 

“We think he’s about two years old now,” Buffy said gently. “Time passes differently in Quortoth.”

 

“He won’t remember me,” Angel said, sounding dazed.

 

Buffy winced. “If it makes you feel any better, he won’t remember Holtz, either.”

 

Angel took a step closer. “Can I hold him?”

 

“He’s pretty friendly,” Dawn said, her face softening slightly. “Connor? You want to go see your dad?”

 

“Hey, buddy.” Angel kept his voice low as he stretched out his arms. “You want to come see me?”

 

Connor seemed to size him up, then held out his arms. Angel didn’t waste a moment, scooping him up and holding him close. The boy stared at him, his blue eyes wide. Angel glanced up at Buffy. “Thank you.”

 

“I was glad to do it.” Buffy hadn’t yet brought Spike up, mostly because he was on the back porch, and she knew there would be fireworks when he came in. “Wesley isn’t back yet, Angel, if you still wanted to talk to him.”

 

Angel nodded. “Yeah. We can wait.”

 

“Maybe you should give Connor some time to get to know you,” Buffy suggested. “I know you probably want to get back to L.A. with him, but he doesn’t really know you yet.”

 

The others had stayed quiet up to this point, but Cordelia spoke up. “I think we know what’s best for Connor, Buffy.”

 

Buffy faced her, hand on her hips. “Is that right? Who went to Quortoth? Who beat off the demonic beasts and made sure he had enough to eat and held him as he slept? Spike and I, that’s who. So I think we know what we’re talking about.”

 

“Wait, Spike?” Angel demanded.

 

“Who’s Spike?” the second woman asked. Angel hadn’t bothered introducing her or the tall black man yet.

 

“My boyfriend,” Buffy replied a little shortly.

 

“Thought you might wait to drop that little bombshell, luv.”

 

“Spike!” Angel’s voice was a low roar, and Connor started crying, holding his arms out to Spike, as though to add insult to injury.

 

Spike started for the boy immediately, but Angel held him close, turning away, his face shifting. “Stay away from my son!”

 

Connor’s wails grew in intensity, and Buffy stifled a curse. “Angel! Here. Give him to me.”

 

For a moment, she thought he might strike out at her, but he reluctantly handed the child over. Buffy cradled him to her chest and whispered soothing words just as she had in Quortoth. She heard Dawn shooing their guests into the kitchen, so that only Angel and Spike remained behind.

 

Once Connor was calmer, she turned to Angel. “Sit down now.” He opened his mouth to argue, and she cut him off. “No, Angel. Sit.”

 

He did as she asked, and Buffy handed Connor off to Spike. “Take him into the kitchen?” she asked. “We need to talk.”

 

Spike’s gaze was searching, but he finally nodded. “You got it, Buffy.”

 

Her hand lingered on his arm, the gesture hidden from Angel’s gaze by her position. “Thanks.”

 

Once he’d gone, Buffy rounded on Angel. “Do _not_ upset Connor again, Angel. You don’t know what he’s been through, and while you may not like Spike, Connor does.”

 

Angel raised his hands in surrender. “I get it, Buffy,” he said tightly. “But that’s my son.”

 

“He doesn’t know that,” Buffy reminded him. “Give it time, go slowly, and he won’t remember that he was ever with Holtz.”

 

The muscle in his jaw jumped. “And Spike?”

 

“He saved my life—a lot, and not just in Quortoth,” Buffy said gently. “He saved my sister’s life.”

 

Angel looked at her, and she knew he felt betrayed. “Do you love him?”

 

“I care about him, and I’m not talking to you about this,” Buffy replied, rising from the couch. “I’ll go get Connor, and you guys can get to know each other a little better.”

 

She rose from the couch and went into the kitchen. Cordelia was holding Connor, bouncing him on her hip to make him giggle. “Hey. Angel wants to see Connor.”

 

“I’ll take him in,” Cordelia replied. She hesitated at the door. “Buffy—thanks.”

 

“Yeah.” The other two followed her out, and Buffy realized that she still didn’t know their names. “Who are they?” Buffy asked her sister in a whisper.

 

“Fred and Gunn,” Dawn replied. “They seem okay.”

 

Buffy’s eyebrows went up. “Which one’s Fred, and which one’s Gunn?”

 

“It’s Winifred,” Spike inserted. “You sure Connor’s gonna be alright with them?”

 

Buffy sighed. “Angel _is_ his father.”

 

Dawn made a face. “Poor kid.”

 

Spike snickered appreciatively, and Buffy didn’t have the heart to reprimand her.

 

When the phone rang, she sighed, reaching for it. The last thing she needed right now was an emergency; she had her hands full as it was. “Hello?”

 

“Hey, Buffy.” Xander’s voice was cheerful. “Anya wanted me to ask if we should come over tonight. Wesley told her that you were calling Angel.”

 

“He’s here, and he brought friends,” she replied, keeping her voice low. “And no offense, Xan, but having you guys here would just make the house that much smaller.”

 

“Trust me, I’m very okay with not seeing Dead-Boy,” he assured her. “You’ll tell us how it goes?”

 

“Sure. Maybe you could come over tomorrow night,” Buffy suggested. She’d have to tell him that she was dating Spike at some point; it might be a good idea to get it over with as soon as possible.

 

“Sounds good.”

 

Buffy hung up the phone, and her eyes met Spike’s. What she saw there told her that it didn’t matter how hard things might get; she’d made the right choice.

 

~~~~~

 

“Thanks for the ride home,” Tara said, glancing over at Wesley.

 

He shrugged. “It was my pleasure, and the least I could do after I kept you so late.”

 

“I didn’t mind,” she replied truthfully. Tara had known that he didn’t want to leave and face Angel, not that she blamed him. Wesley had told her a little more about what had happened over the past months, including how Angel had tried to smother him with a pillow.

 

“Not that I blame him,” Wesley had added quickly. “After what I did, I would have been surprised if he’d reacted any other way.”

 

Tara couldn’t help comparing his reaction to having messed up so badly to Willow’s, after she had nearly fried Spike. Willow had been remorseful after her trap caught Buffy, rather than the nerds, but her attitude had been completely different with Spike.

 

To be so callous, after everything he’d done—well, Tara hadn’t understood it, and that had been the last straw.

 

Wesley, however, was nearly swallowed up in self-hatred. Perhaps it was merely a result of their feelings towards those they’d harmed. Willow still didn’t much like Spike, while Wesley obviously cared for Connor and Angel.

 

She wondered if the man knew how much he’d revealed during their time together, both that day and those previous, when they’d worked on opening the portal. Tara didn’t think that he did.

 

“Do you—” he began, just as she started to climb out of the SUV.

 

Tara looked back over her shoulder. “What is it?”

 

“It’s nothing,” he said, apparently thinking better of what he was going to say. “I should be going. I’m sure Angel is at Buffy’s by now.”

 

Impulsively, she reached out and gripped his hand. “Call me later if you need to talk. I know what it’s like to leave everything behind.”

 

Tara didn’t give him a chance to reply, slipping out of the vehicle quickly and closing the door behind her. She hurried inside, smiling. Strange, how you could find friends so unexpectedly.

 

She stopped as she approached her room. Speaking of the unexpected—

 

“I was waiting for you,” Willow said, straightening.

 

Tara crossed her arms in front of herself. “I was at the Magic Box.”

 

“With who?”

 

“With Wesley.”

 

Willow’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were gay.”

 

Tara blinked. “I prefer women,” she said carefully. “What is this about, Will?”

 

“Is there a chance for us, Tara?” she asked. “I want to know.”

 

“Willow—”

 

“I _need_ to know.”

 

Tara was silent; she didn’t know how to respond. Was there a chance? And if there wasn’t, when had it died? Finally, she responded, “No. I don’t think so.”

 

Willow stared at the floor. “Why not? Is it because of the magic? I’ve been doing really well, Tara.”

 

“I know, but—” Tara sighed. “I don’t think we fit together anymore.”

 

Willow stared at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Tara didn’t know how to explain it any better than that. “It means that I can’t trust you.”

 

Their eyes met, and Tara had to fight not to look away. She wasn’t the one in the wrong here, but neither was Willow. They had changed over the last few years, and now Tara didn’t quite recognize the woman standing before her.

 

Willow took a step back, as though she’d been struck. “That’s not fair, Tara. I would never hurt you.”

 

Tara took a deep breath. “You did hurt me, when you made me forget about the fight that we had, and you were willing to hurt someone your friends care about because you were angry with him.”

 

Willow’s expression turned incredulous. “This is about Spike?”

 

“No, it’s not. It’s about you and me,” Tara said, her voice sharp. “It’s about the fact that when I suggested you were misusing magic, you blew me off, and then cast a spell to ‘fix’ it. When Spike backed me up, you attacked him. You were ready to kill four people to get your way, and you almost killed two—the two people who have probably saved your life most often.”

 

Willow’s eyes blazed. “The nerds almost killed you!” she hissed.

 

“And you thought that killing them would make it better?” Tara demanded, keeping her own voice low. “How do you think I would have felt if three people ended up dying because of me? There was no reason for that, Willow.”

 

Willow drew herself up. “I guess if you think that, then we really don’t fit together. I thought you’d appreciate the fact that I wanted to take care of the nerds.”

 

“Not by killing them, Will,” Tara said softly, pleading with her. “Remember? ‘An it harm none, do as ye will?’”

 

“They hurt you.”

 

“And they would have been paid back threefold.” Tara took a deep breath. “It’s done now, Will.”

 

Willow’s mouth tightened. “Right. I’ll see you later, Tara.”

 

Tara watched her go, then leaned against the doorjamb. She knew that Willow had only the best of intentions, at least when it came to the nerds—at least if you overlooked the fact that she’d intended to kill them. She knew, however, that whatever you sent out would be returned to you times three.

 

In fact, that’s exactly what had happened, since all three of them were sitting in the State Penitentiary.

 

She feared that Willow would step over the line someday, and that nothing would be able to stop her from destroying herself.

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley parked on the street, his eyes on Angel’s car. He wondered if the others had come as well, or if they’d stayed behind; he didn’t know what would be easier.

 

Slowly, unwillingly, he climbed out of the car and approached the front door, knowing that he couldn’t put it off forever. Wesley didn’t bother knocking, knowing that Buffy would have left the front door open for him.

 

Angel was in the living room, talking quietly to Connor, who was sitting on Cordelia’s lap. It appeared as though the little boy was warming up to him, and he giggled when Angel tickled his stomach.

 

Fred and Gunn saw him first, and almost at the same time. She was leaning against him, his arms around her shoulders as they both watched the reunion. Fred stiffened slightly and pulled away. “Wesley.”

 

Angel and Cordelia looked up. “Wes.” Angel didn’t move.

 

When Connor caught sight of him, he giggled, squirming out of Cordelia’s lap and stumbling over to where he stood. The little boy tugged at his pant leg, and Wesley stood frozen for a moment. He had no idea how Angel would react if he responded to Connor’s demands, but then decided that it didn’t matter.

 

Besides, Angel was unlikely to kill him while he was holding the boy.

 

“Hello, Connor,” Wesley said, swinging him up. “Did you have fun today?”

 

Connor put his out hand, touching the stubble that Wesley hadn’t bothered shaving off. The texture made him laugh again.

 

“I see you’ve been getting reacquainted,” Angel said tightly.

 

Wesley kept his voice calm and even as he replied, “We’ve all been taking turns looking after him.”

 

“I need to talk to you,” Angel said. “Alone.”

 

Buffy entered the living room. “Is anybody thirsty? I have some sodas in the kitchen.” She took Connor from him, her hand brushing his shoulder. Wesley was grateful for the show of solidarity, particularly since the others refused to meet his eyes as they filed out of the room.

 

They stood staring at each other for a minute that seemed to last an eternity; Wesley was determined to let Angel speak first.

 

“You went to Buffy for assistance,” Angel finally said.

 

“I knew she would help, and that she was one of the few with any chance at surviving Quortoth.”

 

“Spike went with her.”

 

“That was none of my affair,” Wesley said, hearing the accusation in Angel’s voice, as though he’d set the two of them up. He was certain that Dawn bore the blame for that, if blame was to be assigned.

 

Angel sank down onto the couch. “What am I supposed to do, Wes?”

 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Although he did know—he knew all too well.

 

Angel met his eyes. “I know you meant this for the best, but you didn’t consult anyone on this. You went out on your own, and you nearly got my son killed.”

 

Wesley felt the anger rise, hot and quick. “Who was I supposed to consult?” he asked harshly. “Cordelia? She was with the Groosalug. Lorne? We all know that he’s more interested in rebuilding his club than anything else at the moment. Fred or Gunn? That was impossible. That only left you, and I believed the prophecy was a true one.”

 

“There might have been another way,” Angel insisted.

 

“What way? And could I risk Connor? Or you?”

 

Angel was the first to look away, and Wesley knew he’d won that much at least. With the return of Connor, Angel could begin to understand the position he’d been in, and with understanding might come acceptance.

 

But not forgiveness. Wesley knew that, too.

 

“I can’t ask you to come back.”

 

That was all he said, and if Wesley had been hoping for some word of forgiveness, he would have been sorely disappointed. As it was, he’d known what he could expect from Angel. “I know. I expected that.”

 

There was a mute apology in his eyes when Angel looked up again. “Maybe someday.”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

“What will you do?”

 

“I may stay here for a while,” Wesley replied. “Buffy has indicated that she could use the services of a Watcher, and I still have my private investigator’s license.”

 

His look turned questioning. “When did you two become such good friends?” Angel asked. “I thought you two hated each other.”

 

Wesley just shrugged. “We ran into each other unexpectedly a couple of years ago.”

 

Buffy poked her head into the room. “You hungry, Wes? We’re ordering dinner.”

 

“Of course. I should get cleaned up, though.” It was an easy way to excuse himself until the food arrived; Wesley had every intention of making himself scarce while Angel and the rest were in town. It would be easier that way.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike heard Buffy’s intake of breath as they stepped outside. “Got a little too crowded, huh?”

 

“You have no idea,” she replied fervently. At his raised brow, she admitted, “Okay, you probably do have an idea. It’ll be good to have my house back.”

 

“You didn’t have to let him stay there,” Spike pointed out ruthlessly.

 

Buffy snorted. “Please, Spike. This transition is going to be hard enough on Connor, and Angel doesn’t want to let him out of his sight. What else was I supposed to do?”

 

Spike shrugged. He didn’t much like the idea of Angel sleeping in the same house as Buffy, but he couldn’t fault her logic. Besides, she’d told Peaches that he was her boyfriend.

 

And he knew that Angel would have something to say about that before he left town.

 

“You were really civil,” Buffy observed.

 

Spike shrugged. “You did say no bloodshed.”

 

Her reply was a noncommittal “hmm,” and when she didn’t say anything else, he gave her a curious look. “So what about it?”

 

“What about what?”

 

“What about me being civil?” Spike asked. “You sounded surprised.”

 

“Not surprised exactly,” she hedged.

 

“Then what?”

 

“The last time my current and ex boyfriends were in the same room at the same time, there were guns and yelling,” she admitted. “This was almost pleasant.”

 

Spike snorted. “That was only because we were inside your house. Trust me, Peaches will come after me before he leaves town.”

 

He noticed that Buffy didn’t refute his statement, but she did change the subject. “Can I ask you a question?”

 

“Sure.” She sounded serious, and he frowned. “Is there something wrong?”

 

“No, not wrong. I just wanted to know what you liked to read. When ‘the telly’s broken.’”

 

Her accent was terrible, and Spike groaned inwardly. He couldn’t sense any demons nearby, which meant that he had no way to get off the hook this time. Knowing Buffy, she’d persist until he told her—and he couldn’t lie. She’d find out eventually, and he’d be in for it.

 

“Poetry.”

 

Spike was expecting laughter. What he got was, “Oh.”

 

“That’s it?” he asked.

 

“What did you want me to say?”

 

“Dunno.” His brow creased. “Is that really all you’re gonna say?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “I like poetry, too.”

 

Spike blinked, then looked away as he asked, “What kinds?”

 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, I like what I’ve read, but I had to drop my poetry class last year after Mom died, you know.”

 

“You could take it again,” he suggested.

 

She shook her head. “It’s only offered once a year, and it was filled up this time. Maybe next year, since it’s going to be a while before I graduate.”

 

“Right,” he replied, feeling tongue-tied and awkward. Spike had thought he knew everything about Buffy, and here she’d surprised him.

 

“So, what kinds do you like?”

 

Spike was in for it now, but her initial reaction encouraged him. “Uh, Shakespeare, Browning, Coleridge. A few others.”

 

“Was that so hard to admit?” she asked.

 

He shook his head. “Haven’t told anyone that in years.”

 

“Not even Drusilla?”

 

“She knew. She always knew things like that.”

 

Buffy nudged him with her elbow. “So, do you have any other deep, dark secrets you want to share?”

 

Spike shook his head. “No, not really.”

 

He’d save the fact that he had actually written poetry for another day.


	10. Saying Goodbye

**“Rise to the rhythm, rise to the call/Come face the music, or be nowhere at all/Go down to the river, no need to fear/Your trials can be over, there are no judges here/There are no judges here./Somewhere east of Eden/Let there be no doubt/No flaming swords of cherubim/To keep you out…Come on back to Camptown/Celebrate the news/No need for a clamp-down/Once you've paid your dues.” ~Kim Richey, “No Judges”**

 

“I wondered where you’d gone.”

 

Wesley stood on the back porch, hands in his pockets, and wished he’d found a better hiding place. “Just thought I’d get a breath of fresh air.”

 

“We’re staying in a hotel tonight,” Cordelia informed him. “Well, Angel is staying here, but Buffy doesn’t have room for all of us.”

 

He nodded. “It makes sense.”

 

Cordelia came to stand next to him. “He said you’re staying.”

 

“For now.” Wesley glanced down at her and smiled wryly. “Perhaps I’ll travel as a rogue demon hunter for a while again.”

 

Her dark eyes were sad. “Wes—”

 

“You didn’t come to see me once you got back in town,” he observed in a low voice.

 

Cordy sighed. “Angel needed me.” She hesitated. “If I had been there when you found the prophecy—would you have told me?”

 

Wesley wanted to give her an honest answer, and he wanted to think clearly about those awful days leading up to that fateful decision. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I think I might have.”

 

She laid a hand on his arm but didn’t reply, and Wesley knew they’d said all there was to say. Her first priority had been Angel, and they would never know what might have happened if she hadn’t gone on vacation with Groo. When Cordelia turned to go back inside, she paused to look back at him. “You’ll keep in touch?”

 

“Of course.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Wesley wouldn’t avoid contact, and he would want to know how Connor was doing in the future.

 

Her expression indicated that she didn’t quite believe him, but all she said was, “Let me know when you get a permanent address, huh?”

 

He watched her go inside, then turned back to his contemplation of the darkness, thinking that with as many endings as he was facing now, things still looked considerably brighter.

 

~~~~~

 

The house was entirely too full. Buffy had come to realize how nice it was with just her and Dawn—and Spike, more often than not—after a few days of having houseguests. Having Wesley around hadn’t been bad, if only because they hadn’t been in the house much, but now with Angel and his gang, and Connor there as well—

 

Plus, things with Angel were awkward for any number of reasons. Buffy was more grateful to head to class than she ever thought she’d be. Of course, after having to drop out, then reapply, Buffy was simply grateful to be back in school.

 

After her last class, she saw Willow down the hall, talking to a girl she didn’t recognize. “Willow!”

 

Her friend glanced over at her, and although she waved, she didn’t appear very welcoming. “Hey,” Buffy said as she got closer. “What’s up?”

 

“I was just talking to Libby about a class,” Willow replied. Libby murmured a goodbye and shared a meaningful look with the witch.

 

Buffy suspected that wasn’t the only thing they had been talking about, but she let it go. She didn’t want to get into a fight now. Over the last month, she’d tried to put their differences behind her, but she had found that she didn’t trust Willow—not completely, not anymore.

 

“Are you going to come over and see Connor?” she asked as they began walking out of the building. “They’re leaving tonight.”

 

Willow shrugged. “I don’t think so. It’s not like you need me.”

 

Buffy knew that was a dig to get back at her for not allowing Willow to help open the portals. “Will—”

 

“I’ve got something else going on tonight, Buffy,” Willow said impatiently.

 

She stifled the hurt she felt. “What’s that?”

 

“There’s a Wicca meeting,” Willow replied, albeit a little reluctantly.

 

Buffy frowned. “I thought you’d decided that they didn’t know anything about real magic.”

 

“Not that group. This is a different one.”

 

She couldn’t read the expression on Willow’s face, and Buffy didn’t know if Willow feared her disapproval, or if she knew that whatever she was doing wasn’t right. There didn’t seem to be any reply that she could make; Buffy knew that whatever she said was likely to come out wrong. “I hope you have a good time.”

 

Willow shot her a resentful look, probably because of the reluctance in her voice. “I’ll be fine, Buffy,” she said impatiently. “I know what I’m doing.”

 

“Okay.” Buffy looked into the face of her friend and wondered when they’d grown so far apart. “Just—be careful, Will.”

 

This time, Willow seemed to see her concern, and she shrugged. “I’ll be fine,” she repeated. “See you later?”

 

Buffy nodded, then watched as her friend slipped into another building. She was beginning to wonder if their friendship would ever be like it was.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara glimpsed Buffy and Willow across the campus grounds, and she saw the expression on Buffy’s face when Willow turned and walked away. Recalling their conversation from the night before, Tara wondered if her ex-girlfriend was deliberately retreating from relationships with people who might hold her accountable.

 

It worried her, but she knew that there was nothing she could do; Willow would have to make her own choices.

 

She hurried to catch up to Buffy, wanting to know how the meeting with Angel had gone, and how Connor and Wesley were doing.

 

“Hey, Tara.” The expression on Buffy’s face was welcoming. “What’s up?”

 

“Are you okay?” she asked.

 

“Yeah, sure. Why?”

 

“I just saw you with Willow, and she came by last night,” Tara explained. “I just thought that maybe she said something to you.”

 

“She’s meeting with some Wicca group tonight,” Buffy replied. “I get the feeling that I may not want to know what they’re up to.”

 

Tara sighed. “I don’t think it’s a bad group, but it’s not—” She stopped, not knowing how to explain. It had appeared from her contacts that the witches in that group were more interested in what magic could do than in using it wisely. “I don’t know.”

 

“That’s pretty much how I feel about it.” Buffy shrugged, as though putting it to one side. “Do you want to come back to the house with me? Angel’s leaving with Connor tonight.”

 

“I’d love to.” Tara secured her backpack more securely. “How did that go?”

 

“Other than Angel nearly taking Spike’s head off for daring to touch his son, and scaring Connor half to death? It went great.”

 

“And Wesley?”

 

Buffy gave her a strange look. “I think he’s okay. He’s staying for a while. Angel basically told him that he didn’t want him to come back.”

 

Tara made a face. “Why? You wouldn’t have even known about Connor without him.”

 

“I don’t think Angel is very good at forgiving people,” Buffy replied.

 

“That seems strange for a person who needs so much forgiveness himself,” she observed.

 

Buffy snorted. “You said it; I didn’t.” She hesitated. “Is something going on between you and Wes, Tara?”

 

Tara shook her head, feeling her face flush. “Nothing, really. It’s just—you can’t work magic with someone and not feel a connection. Sometimes it’s fleeting, but other times—”

 

“There’s chemistry?” Buffy suggested slyly.

 

Tara shrugged. “If that’s what you want to call it. I think we could become friends.”

 

“He’s a really good guy.” Buffy nudged her gently. “And I know you don’t swing that way, but he’s pretty easy on the eyes, too.”

 

Tara smiled. “I might prefer women, but I’m not blind.”

 

And just because she preferred women, didn’t mean she’d completely ruled out men.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander put down the phone with a sigh of relief. He’d felt the need to offer his services and support, but Buffy had essentially said that the house was full enough as it was, and there was no point in him being around Angel any more than absolutely necessary.

 

“And, no offense, Xander, but once they’re gone, I don’t want to see anyone for a while,” she’d told him.

 

“Has Angel been driving you crazy?” he asked.

 

He could almost hear her shrug. “Not really. I had classes today, and Spike and Wesley have been making themselves scarce. Why is it that none of the men I know can get along?”

 

Xander hated to admit it, but he didn’t have a problem with Wesley, and Spike had grown on him, and he said as much to Buffy. “Although, I still don’t know about you hanging out with him, Buffy. You’ll give him the wrong idea.”

 

“Xander, I’m not giving him the wrong idea. I’m dating him.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Don’t,” she warned him. “I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear it. This is my decision, and Spike has proven himself.”

 

“I think you’re making a big mistake, Buffy.”

 

“Noted, but I’m going to do it anyway. I don’t want to hear anymore about it.”

 

He sighed. “I suppose you could do worse.” Xander was willing to admit to that much; Angel would have been worse.

 

“A lot worse,” she reminded him. “At least I don’t have to worry about Spike frequenting vampire ‘hos.”

 

“There is that,” he agreed. “I guess if you don’t need me, I’ll see you soon.”

 

“I’ll call you,” she promised. “Just as soon as I’m recovered.” There was a pause, and she asked, “Have you talked to Willow lately?”

 

“Not since she and Anya had it out,” he admitted. “I don’t think she was happy about me not defending her.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“She’ll be okay, Buffy,” Xander said, feeling helpless to do or say anything else. He wanted things to be like they had been, but that was clearly impossible. He and Buffy had made their choices, and Willow had made hers.

 

He just wished that they had ended up on the same side in the end.

 

When Xander hung up the phone, he found Anya watching him. “So, we’re not going over there?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

 

“Buffy said she’s got too many people in the house as it is,” he replied. “I hope you don’t mind.”

 

“No, I think a night of orgasms is what we need,” she replied. Then, in one of her moments of acute perception, she added, “Thank you. For not defending Willow the other night.”

 

Xander sighed. “You were right, An. She’s being unreasonable about this whole thing.” Pausing, he added, “And can we just forget about the rest of the world for tonight?”

 

“I was hoping that’s what we would do.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Hey, Spike?” Dawn asked.

 

He took a deep drag of his cigarette. “Yeah?”

 

“If I asked Buffy for a kitten, would you back me up?”

 

“And why would I do that?”

 

“Because I’m your favorite Summers?” Dawn suggested, batting her eyes at him. When he snorted, she shrugged. “It’s been fun to have Connor around, and kitties are cute.”

 

“You could get a babysitting job if you like little ones,” Spike suggested.

 

Dawn gave the suggestion some consideration as Spike experimented with smoke rings. “I could, but I still want a kitten. I’m old enough to have a pet.”

 

“Ask your sister,” he advised. “If she asks me, I’ll tell her I think you’re old enough.”

 

“Thanks. And Spike?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Have you guys had sex yet?”

 

She knew it wasn’t any of her business, and she knew that Spike wouldn’t tell her, but she wanted to see the look on his face when she asked. His expression was totally worth it, too, because he choked on his cigarette. “Dawn!”

 

“What?” she asked innocently.

 

He glared. “How is it any of your business?”

 

“It’s not,” she replied cheerfully. “But I’ve been throwing you guys together for a year now, and I wanted to know if there had been a payoff.”

 

“Why you scheming little—” Spike stared at her as though he didn’t know whether he was angry or admiring, but his half-laugh told her it was probably the latter. “Should have known. Buffy and I ended up alone together a little too often for it to be by chance.”

 

“Only at the beginning,” Dawn advised him. “After a while, I didn’t even have to push her.”

 

Spike smirked. “Who could resist yours truly?”

 

Dawn snorted, but she didn’t disagree. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Connor?”

 

“Is that what you came to get me for?” Spike asked.

 

“No, but I thought I’d let you know they’re leaving soon.”

 

Spike nodded. “I’ll go in just before. No sense in giving Angel another shot at me. Thought he would have tried to catch me alone, but I guess that’ll have to wait until he comes back to town again.”

 

“He’s been too busy with Connor,” Dawn said wisely. “But I bet he’ll try to say something before he leaves.” She grinned at him. “Unless I can do something about it.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

 

“I’ll think of something.”

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley had made himself scarce during the day, preferring to leave Angel alone with Connor, rather than forcing his presence. He didn’t think they had anything else to say to one another.

 

He’d especially wanted to avoid Fred and Gunn, who appeared to be attached at the hip. Fred wouldn’t even meet his eyes, but he supposed that wasn’t surprising given the last time they had seen one another.

 

It would have been easier if he had something to do—anything to do; Wesley would have been happy to clean up the dinner dishes, but they had ordered out and used paper plates. Spike was out on the back porch, and he felt as though he would be intruding if he went out there.

 

“Hey.”

 

Wesley turned to see Tara standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “Hello.”

 

“Are you hiding out?”

 

“Is it that obvious?”

 

Tara hesitated. “I don’t know.”

 

Wesley raised an eyebrow. “You mean that no one else has noticed that I’m not there.”

 

She shrugged. “They’re all busy watching Connor. I think they’re leaving soon anyway.”

 

“Yes, well, I imagine he’ll be glad to get back to Los Angeles.”

 

“When will you move?”

 

Wesley hadn’t thought about the logistics of the move yet. He knew that he couldn’t stay with Buffy much longer; he would have to see about a new place to live, as well as work on drumming up business. Or perhaps he’d find a different job.

 

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “I can’t stay with Buffy forever, or much longer, really. I’ve likely overstayed my welcome already.”

 

“If Buffy hasn’t kicked you out yet, you’re probably okay,” Tara said with a smile.

 

Wesley shrugged. “I’d like to leave before she feels the need to get rid of me.”

 

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do yet?”

 

“Other than trying not to starve?” Wesley asked. “No, not really.”

 

Tara frowned. “Is the situation that dire?”

 

He sighed. “No, not really. I have a nest egg, and—” This wasn’t something he liked talking about, but Wesley thought he could trust her. “I had an aunt who was very fond of me. She didn’t have a lot of money, but what she did have she left in an irrevocable trust.”

 

“So, you wouldn’t have to work?” Tara asked.

 

Wesley shook his head. “No, but it allows me to live on less money.”

 

“Which is why you could work for Angel.”

 

“And why I have a little time.”

 

Tara reached into her pocket. “I’ve been looking for a job and an apartment for this summer. I thought this might interest you.”

 

Wesley read the circled ad. “A bookstore?”

 

“They can’t get anyone to keep it open after sunset,” Tara explained.

 

He found his curiosity piqued. “And you know this how?”

 

“I talked to the owner,” Tara admitted.

 

“You didn’t want the job?”

 

“He wants someone who can stay past the summer.” Tara shrugged. “But I’ll be working there part time. I said I knew someone who might be interested, but he won’t need anyone for another month.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” Wesley promised. “I don’t suppose you have a suggestion for a place to live?”

 

She smiled. “Actually, I do.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike thought that he might actually get away without a lecture from Angel, but his luck wasn’t that good. In the midst of saying goodbye, Angel grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. “I wanted to talk to you.”

 

It looked like Dawn hadn’t come up with a way to distract him. “What do you want?”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Angel sounded as though he was choking on the word, and for a moment, Spike was tempted to make him repeat it. “Don’t worry about it. Didn’t do it for you anyway. I did it for the boy.” Spike’s eyes strayed to Connor, who had wrapped chubby arms around Buffy’s neck. “He _is_ blood.”

 

The older vampire looked even more disgruntled, if that were possible. “Yes, well, about Buffy—”

 

“Angel!” Dawn called. “They’re waiting for you.” She was by his side, tugging on his arm, just a moment later. “Connor doesn’t want to let go of Buffy.”

 

Spike caught the conspiratorial wink she sent him, and he winked back. Angel was easily distracted by Connor’s name, and he headed for the front door without a backwards look at Spike.

 

“I think you may have your hands full with her soon,” Wesley observed.

 

He glanced over his shoulder at Wesley, who had just emerged from the kitchen. “You’re not going to say goodbye?”

 

“I already have,” Wesley replied.

 

Spike nodded, understanding what he meant. “Yeah. Angel never was very good at letting things go.”

 

“I should go say goodbye to Connor,” Tara observed, slipping out from behind Wesley and heading outside.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “You and Tara seem to be friendly.”

 

“She’s been very kind.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “And that’s it?”

 

“You can’t really work magic with someone and not gain an understanding of their character,” Wesley explained. “She’s a kind woman.”

 

“That she is,” Spike agreed. “She’s been a friend to both of us, although Buffy and I probably haven’t been as good to her.”

 

“What do you mean?” Wesley asked, the sharpness of his tone telling Spike that the man had quickly become protective of Tara. Not that he blamed the man; Tara brought out similar urges in others.

 

He shrugged. “Just that since her breakup with Willow, Buffy’s had to walk a fine line. Think she’s finally chosen her side, though, just as Willow’s chosen hers.”

 

“She could cause problems down the road,” he observed.

 

“You’re telling me,” Spike said. “Guess that’s a bridge we’ll cross when we come to it. Could be that she’ll just drift off. It happens often enough.”

 

“I suppose it does.”

 

Spike realized that he’d touched a sore spot without meaning to, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Wesley would be bruised for a while as a result of his treatment at the hands of his friends.

 

Not that he didn’t understand why they had acted as they did; he’d grown rather fond of Connor himself. Still, intentions had to count for something. As far as he was concerned, it was a good idea to have someone in your corner who could make the tough decisions.

 

All he did say was, “Want a beer?”

 

“That would be nice.”

 

Saying goodbye was always painful; Spike knew that from personal experience.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy had a destination in mind, and it had nothing to do with patrol. Of course, she hadn’t let Spike in on the plan yet. She wanted to surprise him, since he’d been such a good sport about Angel being in town.

 

“Uh, Buffy?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Restfield is clear. I checked it.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Then what are we doing here?”

 

She glanced over at him. “Use your imagination.” Buffy kept walking, stopping only when she realized that Spike wasn’t by her side. “What’s wrong?”

 

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I must have heard you wrong.”

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Okay, Spike. Your crypt is twenty yards away, and that’s where I’m heading. Feel free to join me whenever you want.”

 

He was by her side in the next moment. “You’re serious.”

 

“Very.” Buffy smirked. “I got a taste of my future the other night, and now I want the whole meal.”

 

Spike’s eyes darkened. “Oh, I can give you the entire feast, Slayer.”

 

“Really?” she asked archly. “Because it’s been a long dry spell, and I’m pretty hungry.”

 

“You won’t be disappointed,” he promised.

 

Buffy just smiled; she had never thought she would be.


	11. Beginnings

**“What can I compare you to, a favorite pair of shoes?/Maybe my bright red boots if they had wings/Funny how we animate colorful objects saved/Funny how it's hard to take a love with no sting./But come on take it, come on take it, take it from me/But come on take it, come on take it, take it from me (We’ve got a good life).” ~The Weepies, “Take It From Me”**

 

“That’s the last of it,” Buffy announced, setting down yet another box.

 

It had been easier than Wesley had expected to move his things. Perhaps it was only because having a Slayer and a vampire to help cut down on the necessary manpower, but Wesley had a feeling that it had more to do with feeling as though he was moving towards something, rather than running away from his past.

 

“Thank you,” Wesley said. “I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

 

“I helped, too.” Dawn’s voice floated out from the kitchen.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “And I’m sure Wesley won’t forget it with you reminding him every five minutes!” She gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry. She seems to think that she actually has a life.”

 

“I _so_ have a life!” Dawn called out.

 

Wesley hid a smile; he was beginning to become used to their squabbles. As an only child, he’d never had an opportunity to fight with a sibling. “It was very kind of both of you to help,” he said sincerely.

 

“What else are friends for?” Buffy asked philosophically. “Besides, I’m getting a Watcher again. Trust me, that’s payment enough.”

 

“Are you really going to be running that bookstore?” Dawn asked, emerging from the kitchen with Tara on her heels.

 

Wesley shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll do it forever, but it will be a nice change.” He shared a look with Buffy. “Besides, I have a feeling that living on the Hellmouth will prevent me from getting too bored.”

 

“Leave Wesley alone, Dawnie,” Tara said. “He can do whatever he likes.”

 

“I know that,” Dawn said, looking a little putout. “But he’s been working with _Angel_. I just thought he’d want to do something more—action-y.”

 

“That’s not a word,” Buffy pointed out ruthlessly.

 

“You make up words all the time,” Dawn shot back.

 

Xander’s voice came from the bedroom. “You know, Spike would be able to find the apartment again just from the sound of bickering.”

 

Dawn rolled her eyes, and Buffy sighed. “How’s it going, Xan?”

 

“It’s done,” Xander announced, coming out from the bedroom. “All furniture is set up and ready for use.” He paused. “Whatever you might want to use it for.”

 

There was a pause, and Wesley could feel himself blush, but he decided to let that statement slide. “Where is Anya?”

 

“Closing up the shop,” Xander replied. “She should be here soon.”

 

No one commented on Willow’s absence, probably because no one really wanted to. She’d distanced herself from everyone, and Wesley wondered if it wasn’t partially his fault. After all, it would have been more difficult for Buffy to avoid asking Willow for magical assistance if he hadn’t been there.

 

Wesley knew better than to blame himself for another’s choices, however; he had enough guilt of his own to bear.

 

There was a brief knock on the door, then Spike walked inside, a box tucked under his arm. “Who’s hungry?”

 

“Ooh! Me!” Dawn grabbed the box from him. “Thanks, Spike!”

 

“Not a problem. You all set up, Watcher?”

 

Wesley shrugged. “Other than the unpacking, but that’s a process I don’t mind leaving until later.”

 

“Don’t know that we’ll be much help there,” Spike confessed. “I’ve always thought that a man ought to know where things are getting put.”

 

Wesley had thought the same, which is why he’d largely discouraged the others from unpacking—at least, anything other than his kitchen things. He used his kitchen equipment so rarely that it probably didn’t matter that he didn’t know where anything was.

 

“The kitchen is unpacked,” Tara announced as she came out. She gave Wesley a look that was highly amused. “You really don’t have much.”

 

“I tend to use the microwave more than anything else,” he confessed.

 

She shook her head. “Maybe I’ll have to teach you how to cook.”

 

“You could try,” Wesley replied. “I don’t know how successful you’ll be.”

 

“If I can learn how to cook, I know you can,” Buffy said. “I used to burn water.”

 

Spike snorted. “You still do.”

 

“Not as often!” she protested.

 

“You do fine,” Tara soothed.

 

“Most of the time,” Dawn inserted.

 

Buffy opened her mouth to reply, and Wesley decided that it was the perfect time to change the subject. “You know, I think there are some paper plates in the kitchen. I’ll grab them.”

 

“Where are the utensils?” Xander asked, following him.

 

“You would have to ask Tara,” he replied. “She’s the one who unpacked.”

 

The other man began opening drawers at random as Wesley grabbed the plates from the cupboard, as well as the six-pack of beer. “Look, Wes.”

 

Xander’s low voice alerted him to the fact that what he wanted to say he’d rather keep private. “Yes?”

 

“I’m sorry for what I said, about not wanting to help.” Xander looked at the floor. “It wasn’t about you.”

 

“It was about Angel?” Wesley guessed.

 

Xander shrugged. “Pretty much.”

 

“Think nothing of it.” Wesley tried for a smile, although he didn’t know how well it came across. There were still days when he felt as though he were drowning in regret and guilt. Angel might have his son back, but there was still so much he had missed.

 

And all because of him.

 

Of course, he had no trouble understanding why Xander might have a problem with Angel; Wesley had met Angelus and lived to tell the tale, and the lessons Angelus taught were hard to forget.

 

Xander glanced back over his shoulder. “Can I ask you a question?”

 

“Certainly.” Wesley wasn’t going to promise to answer it, but he rather thought that he might as well get used to his role as Watcher—at least a part-time Watcher.

 

“Do you think Spike will turn on Buffy if the chip ever stops working?”

 

He knew the answer to that question without having to stop and think about it, but he gave the question the consideration that Xander obviously thought it deserved. “No,” he finally said simply.

 

“How do you know?” Xander asked.

 

Wesley shrugged. “Because he doesn’t have a soul, and he still risked his life to save a child he didn’t know. What he does has nothing to do with the chip.”

 

Xander looked thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess so.”

 

“Hey!” Dawn said, poking her head into the kitchen. “Dinner is getting cold.”

 

“I’m coming,” Xander said. “Is Anya here yet?”

 

As though his words had summoned her, the front door opened, and Anya came in. “Hi!” she called brightly.

 

Wesley followed Xander into the living room with the plates. “Perfect timing, An,” Xander commented. “We were just about to eat.”

 

“Good,” Anya said. “I wouldn’t want to miss it.” She held out a bag to Wesley. “I brought a house warming gift. It’s traditional.”

 

“So it is,” he murmured, amused. The smile faded when he opened the bag emblazoned with the words “The Magic Box.” “Anya—”

 

“I asked Giles,” she assured him. “He said it was okay, and that you probably wouldn’t make any money, so you could always sell it to pay the rent.” Anya paused. “I think he was joking.”

 

Wesley stared down at the copy of _Henrick’s Guide_ he held in his hands. “This is quite the gift,” he finally managed. “Thank you very much.”

 

She shrugged. “I’m glad you like it.”

 

Wesley put his hand on the leather-bound volume reverently, knowing how costly the book really was. It was something he’d never have been able to purchase for himself, but something that would likely come in handy for his vocation.

 

Or perhaps it was his avocation now.

 

~~~~~

 

“Guess you’ve got another Watcher now,” Spike observed.

 

Buffy didn’t know what his feelings about Wesley were, although she suspected that he wasn’t jealous anymore. There had been more than one night of fun and games where she’d had ample opportunity to prove that he was the only man in her life. Still, Buffy thought it might be good to have Wesley around, and it would certainly be nice to have some help with the research.

 

“Are you okay with this?”

 

“I’ll have to be, won’t I?”

 

“Spike—”

 

“’Course I’m alright with it,” he replied. “He seems like a good bloke, and anyone His Great Broodiness has kicked off the team is welcome in my book.”

 

Buffy tried to hide a smile but didn’t quite manage it. “I think we got the better deal.”

 

“Have you talked to Rupert about it?”

 

“We haven’t talked at all since he left.” Buffy sighed. “But apparently Anya’s in contact with him.”

 

“I’m sorry, luv,” Spike said softly, his hand cupping the back of her neck.

 

She leaned against him, stalling their patrol. “It’s not your fault.”

 

“And the fact that you insisted I be part of the group didn’t harm your relationship at all?” Spike raised an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.”

 

“Giles doesn’t get it,” Buffy said, pulling away. “It’s like he doesn’t even trust me.”

 

“He wants better for you,” Spike observed. “Nothing wrong with that. I imagine you’d feel the same way if Dawn hooked up with a vampire.”

 

Buffy turned on him, poking him in the chest with her finger. “First of all, there isn’t anything better for me. I tried normal, remember? It didn’t work. Second, I wouldn’t care if Dawn hooked up with a vampire, as long as he was like you, but that’s not going to happen. Third—this isn’t a ‘hook up.’”

 

Spike took a couple of steps backwards, clearly thrown by her vehemence. “What brought this on?”

 

“I’m sick of explaining this!” Buffy burst out. “I’ve told everybody now, and the only person who hasn’t questioned it was Wesley, probably because he owes me and he knows better.”

 

“And Dawn,” Spike reminded her helpfully.

 

Buffy sighed. “Dawn’s been trying to set us up for months now.”

 

“You knew?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy snorted. “Please, Spike. It was obvious.”

 

“Not to me,” he muttered.

 

“I’m her sister.” She shrugged. “And a girl. Girls notice these kinds of things. Dawn’s been on our side—or your side—from the beginning. I guess Tara didn’t ask a lot of questions, and Anya didn’t seem to care.”

 

“Then everybody is Xander?” Spike asked.

 

“And Willow,” Buffy replied. “Xander told her, and she cornered me at school the other day. She reminded me what happened the last time I was involved with the undead, and while she doesn’t have any fish, she’s a little concerned that you’ll come after Dawn as soon as the chip stops working.”

 

“I would never—”

 

“Which is what I told her,” Buffy assured him, interrupting. “Trust me, Spike. I gave her the run-down on why this was going to work when none of my other relationships have. Willow’s got a chip on her shoulder where you’re concerned, though, probably because you were honest. She’s not into honesty right now.”

 

When he didn’t reply, Buffy glanced over. Spike had a strange expression on his face, and she wondered if she’d said something wrong. “What did I say?”

 

“So, why is this relationship gonna work?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes, but she laughed. “Because you know me better than anyone else, good and bad. And because you don’t mind that I’m as strong as you are, but you don’t expect me to be perfect. And because you’re really, really stubborn, and you won’t leave. And you love my bratty little sister.”

 

Spike pulled her closer. “I think that about covers it,” he agreed, capturing her lips with his.

 

Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, moving closer. “I hate to say it, but I’ve got to get home,” she said once she’d broken off the kiss to catch her breath. “Dawn’s by herself.”

 

“I could stay there tonight,” he suggested.

 

From his tone of voice, Buffy suspected that he didn’t expect her to take him up on the offer. “Okay.”

 

“Yeah?” he asked.

 

“Well, we’ll have to be quiet, but if you think you can manage—”

 

“I can manage all kinds of things,” he promised.

 

Buffy grinned. “Then what are we waiting for?”

 

~~~~~

 

Tara sipped her tea appreciatively. She hadn’t been able to get an electric kettle yet, and heating water in the microwave with a tea bag just wasn’t the same. Besides, Wesley was British; the ability to brew a real pot of tea probably ran in his blood.

 

“How is it?” he asked, sitting down across from her.

 

She smiled. “It’s perfect.”

 

“Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”

 

Tara shrugged. “I didn’t do that much.”

 

“You made it much easier to move,” he confessed. “I don’t know that I would have made the leap otherwise.”

 

She knew she that she was blushing. The stirrings of attraction she felt towards him were new, and not altogether welcome, but at the same time rather pleasant. She was still recovering from her break-up with Willow, and she knew that Wesley was still stinging from whatever had happened in Los Angeles, and so they could just take their time.

 

Sometimes it wasn’t about the destination, but the journey.

 

“It will be good to have you here,” Tara replied. “Buffy could use the extra help, and it’s nice to have a friend.”

 

“You seem to have a few of them,” he said gently.

 

Tara shook her head. “They were Willow’s friends first. Buffy and the others have always been really nice to me, but when we broke up, they didn’t know what to do.”

 

He stared down into his cup. “I can understand that.”

 

“Is that what happened with Angel and the others?” Tara asked.

 

“To a certain extent, but they loved Connor, too.”

 

“So did you.” Tara was certain of that much.

 

Wesley shook his head. “Yes. You know.” His eyes met hers, and she could see everything—pain, hope, fear—so many emotions swirling in their depths.

 

Tara knew exactly what he was going through. She’d experienced the same heady whirl of emotions upon leaving home for the first time, knowing that she would never go back, and when she’d left Willow. The truth was that no matter how right you might be to leave the past behind, the future was still a frightening prospect.

 

“I know,” she agreed.

 

“Have you reserved your apartment?” Wesley asked.

 

Tara hadn’t told anyone else yet that she was renting an apartment in the same building as Wesley; she thought they might read too much into it. In reality, it was simply close to both campus and the bookstore, and not too terribly far from the Magic Box.

 

Plus, it was relatively inexpensive, which counted for a lot.

 

“Yeah.” She glanced away, feeling unaccountably shy. “I’ll be just a couple of doors down.”

 

Wesley smiled. “It will be nice to have a neighbor I know.”

 

Tara couldn’t disagree.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Buffy had promised that they would be quiet, but they hadn’t quite managed it. It was clear that they were trying, but she could still hear them.

 

She would probably be scarred for life.

 

On the other hand, this is what she’d wanted, right? Dawn had been trying to get her sister and Spike together for months now, and she’s been actively campaigning for almost as long. So, it wasn’t like she minded the idea of Spike spending the night.

 

She was going to have to invest in some earplugs, that was all.

 

The two of them seemed to have settled down for the time being, though. After the last round of mattress squeaking—paired with muffled groans and other noises best ignored—Dawn hoped they were done. Dawn still needed her beauty sleep.

 

When a few minutes had passed, with no sound from Buffy’s bedroom, she drifted off with a smile on her face. It was just as she’d suspected; with Spike around, they felt like a family again.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike ran his hand up and down Buffy’s back, simply enjoying the feeling of her smooth skin under his fingers. She was draped over him, sated and spent, her long, blonde hair spread over his chest.

 

She murmured sleepily. “Don’t stop.”

 

“Don’t stop what?”

 

“Doing that.”

 

His hand stilled, mostly to see what she would say. “That?”

 

“You stopped.”

 

Spike began stroking her skin again, unable to resist her demands. “Better?”

 

“Uh huh.” He could feel her thumb moving in lazy circles on his side. A few inches lower, and he would have to worry about Buffy finding his ticklish spot, but for now he was safe. “Don’t leave.”

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, wondering if he was interpreting her request accurately.

 

She didn’t move. “I—don’t leave. I need you.”

 

“’Course I won’t leave,” he replied gently. “I’m not the type.”

 

“I don’t—I—” She was clearly struggling to say something, and Spike took pity on her fumbling attempts to put her thoughts into words.

 

“It’s alright, pet. Say it when you’re ready.”

 

“But you know?” she asked, just a little desperately.

 

Spike closed his eyes, remembering her frantic attempts to find him in the rubble after he’d fallen from the tower to save her sister, her chasing after him in bare feet and pajamas when she’d thought he had the wrong idea about her and Wesley, her request that he follow her into hell.

 

Besides, she’d told her friends they were dating. If that didn’t say love, he didn’t know what did, at least within Buffy’s world.

 

“I know,” he assured her. “It’s alright, Buffy. I love you, too.”

 

And with that, they both drifted off to sleep.


End file.
